
MEADE 













TILE 

LIFE 


GEORGE WASHINGTON. 


L 

WRITTEN FOR THE AMERICAN S. S. UNION, AND REVISED 
BY THE COMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION. 

■ .. ‘ ,U * 


» 

« 

•> » 

• * * » , 
’ i 1 



AMERICAN SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION. 
PHILADELPHIA : 

NO. 146 CHESNUT STREET. 


4-E 

■530 


AD VER TISEMENT. 

The historical portion of this volume is extracted 
from the best authorities, hut it has been deemed 
unnecessary to introduce references. 

BEQUEST 

DORSEY W HYDE JR 
SEPT 1 1955 




Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the 
year 1832, by Paul Beck, Jr. Treasurer, in trust for 
the American Sunday School Union, in the Clerk’s 
Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of 
Pennsylvania. 


2 


INTRODUCTION. 


In the year 1486, a foot traveller, holding 
a boy by the hand, stopped at the gate of a 
■c onvent in Spain, to ask for some bread and 
water for his wearied child. While he was 
receiving it from a kind Friar, he gave him 
a history of himself, and told him for what 
purpose he had come into that country. At 
that time, the inhabitants of Europe, Asia, 
and Africa, did not know that there was any 
other land than those continents, and some 
Inlands not very distant from them.' 

’ -I most learned men, who were endea- 
vouring to increase their knowledge of geo- 
graphy, thought that the ocean surrounded 
those countries like a great belt, and Christo- 
pher Columbus , the stranger who stood at 
the convent gate, was perhaps the first per- 
son who thought that belt, might be crossed 
to the land on the opposite side ; which was 
supposed to be the eastern part of Asia. He 
was born about the year 1436, and was the 
son of a wool-comber, who lived in a city of 
Italy, called Genoa, and who was too poor to 
give him much education ; but Columbus was 
very attentive to the instructions which he re- 
ceived in the few years that he went to school. 
When he was a child, he said he would like 
to be a sailor, and he was very diligent in 

3 


4 


INTRODUCTION. 


using every opportunity to gain a knowledge 
of geography and navigation. 

At the age of fourteen, he went to sea. A 
seafaring life was, at that time, a very dan- 
gerous and toilsome one ; and the years of his 
boyhood were passed in hardships, which 
were severe but useful lessons to teach him to 
command his naturally hasty temper, and to 
endure sufferings without shrinking or com- 
plaining. He reflected on what he observed 
in his voyages, and on what he had learned 
of geography, and felt convinced, that if a 
vessel sailed from Europe towards the west, 
it might reach a land which .was then un- 
known ; and that land he thought it was pro- 
bable was an inhabited one. The Bible woijld 
have taught him that a time will come when 
“ All the ends of the earth shall see the salva- 
tion of our God,” and he might then have felt 
the religious hope that he should be permitted 
to carry the glad tidings to the unknown land, 
the discovery of which he began to speak of 
with as much certainty as if he had seen it. 
He considered his almost infant desire to be- 
come a sailor as a proof that he was thus early 
preparing to be the discoverer of that land ; and 
this confidence never left his mind, but cheered 
him in his darkest hours of disappointment. 

He thought deeply on the subject for many 
years, and at length resolved to undertake a 
voyage of discovery, which the more he 
thought of, the stronger became his hope that it 


INTRODUCTION. 


5 


would be successful. He was too poor to fit out 
even a small vessel, and he could not persuade 
any person to assist him in what was consi- 
dered a wild and useless project. He formed 
the bold resolution to go to Portugal, and ask 
assistance from the king, who at first seemed 
willing to grant it ; but after raising his hopes, 
disappointed them, and Columbus returned to 
his own country, and made an application 
there to the government for aid ; but his re- 
quest was disregarded. Poor as to earthly 
treasures, but trusting to the divine promise, 
“ Commit thy works unto the Lord, and thy 
thoughts shall be established,” he persevered 
in his intention, and was on his way to seek 
assistance from Ferdinand and Isabella, the 
king and queen of Spain, when he stopped at 
the convent gate to ask for refreshment for 
his child, whom he was taking with him. 

The kind man, to whom he related his 
plan, became interested for his success, and 
offered to keep his son, Diego, and educate 
him ; and said he would give him a letter to a 
friend, who he thought could assist him to 
gain the favour of the queen. Columbus left 
his son with him, and travelled to the city 
where the king and queen resided. They 
would not even listen to his proposal to dis- 
cover a new country for them, but^ he deter- 
mined to remain there for some time, and he 
supported himself by designing maps. . He 
was very pleasing in his appearance, and be- 
a 2 


6 


INTRODUCTION. 


ing master of his hasty temper, his manners 
were agreeable. In a short time, he gained 
the good will of some persons who interested 
themselves for him, and introduced him to 
the Archbishop of Spain, to relate to him the 
favourite subject of his thoughts. The Arch- 
bishop obtained permission for him to appear 
before the king and queen, and the favourable 
manner in which they listened to him, gave 
him lively hopes that they would grant to 
him the, assistance which he desired. They 
appointed persons to examine his plan for a 
voyage of discovery, who kept him for a long 
time uncertain as to what opinion they would 
give, and then said that they disapproved of 
it entirely. 

Discouraged, but not despairing, Columbus 
resolved to leave Spain, and seek assistance 
elsewhere, and was on his journey when he 
received a letter from a friend, desiring him 
to return immediately. That friend had suc- 
ceeded in gaining permission to speak to the 
queen, and he had interested her so much by 
an eloquent account of the views of Colum- 
bus, that she said, “ I undertake the enter- 
prise, and pledge my jewels to raise the 
necessary funds.” These were joyful words 
to the ear of Columbus ; and they were not 
vain words ; for an order, signed by the king 
and queen, was given to him to enable him to 
tit out three caravals, or small vessels, for his 
voyage. They were to be prepared at the 


t 


INTRODUCTION. 


7 


town of Palos, and such frightful tales were 
there told about the dangers of the unknown 
deep, that even old seamen spoke of the in- 
tended voyage with dread; and Columbus 
had great difficulty to obtain crews for his 
little vessels. 

On Friday, the third day of August, in the 
year 1492, he sailed from Palos, and the 
friends of the sailors who accompanied him 
took leave of them with lamentations, and 
abuse of Columbus ; for they felt certain his 
little fleet would never return. It was borne 
across the waves for several weeks, and no 
tokens of land appeared. The sailors became 
very anxious and discontented. One even- 
ing, a long dusky strip, like land, excited 
glad expectations, but the dawn of the next 
day showed that it was only a gray cloud 
along the horizon. They were several times 
disappointed in the same manner, and at 
length became desponding, and reproached' 
Columbus with anger, and insisted that he 
should turn back towards Spain. He tried 
to soothe them, and encourage them to go on ; 
but finding that their desire to give up the 
voyage increased, he told them resolutely, 
“ Happen what will, I am determined to 
persevere, until, by the blessing of God, I 
shall accomplish the enterprise.” When he 
had made this declaration, his sailors became 
desperate, and resolved to force him to com- 
ply with their wishes. While they were 


8 


INTRODUCTION. 


planning how they should do so, on the 11th 
October, being sixty-nine days since their 
sailing, some fresh grass, such as grows in 
rivers, floated by the ships, and one of the 
sailors drew up a carved staff, and a thorn 
branch with berries on it, which the waves 
dashed against the side of the vessel. 

As the olive leaf, which God sent to Noah 
by the dove, cheered him in his ark with the 
hope that he should soon behold “ the dry 
land,” so, the carved staff and thorn-stem 
gave Columbus the expectation that he was 
drawing near to the land which was the ob- 
ject of his perilous voyage. To the sailors 
they were peace branches ; for the hopes they 
raised that an inhabited country was not far 
distant, quieted their angry feelings, and each 
one became engaged in watching for land, 
that he might give the first signal of discovery ; 
for which a reward had been promised. The 
little fleet was moved rapidly on by a fresh 
breeze, which blew all day. 

It was the custom of Columbus to close 
each day with an evening hymn, for he was 
a devout man ; and on the evening of that joy- 
ous day, on which the staff and thorn stem 
were seen, he spoke with great feeling to his 
sailors, and endeavoured to lead tiiem to be 
grateful to the mighty Ruler of the waves, 
for his protection and goodness in guiding 
them safely to that hour of cheering hope, 
lie then seated himself at the end of his ves- 


INTRODUCTION. 


9 


sel, and as it was borne along swiftly by the 
breeze, his eyes were fixed in watchfulness 
on the dusky horizon, until it was hid by the 
darkness of night. His anxiety prevented all 
disposition to sleep, and as he sat, with the 
silence of midnight around him, suddenly a 
light appeared, which seemed like a torch in 
the hand of a person, raising and lowering it 
as he walked. Long, very long, no doubt, 
appeared the hours from that moment until 
the dawning of the day. At length that dawn 
came. It was the 12th of October, in the 
year 1492, and the little vessel of Columbus be- 
came to him what “ the mountain of Nebo,” 
was to the leader of Israel ; for as Moses had 
been led through the dangers of the wilder- 
ness, to that mount from which he saw “ the 
promised land,” so Columbus had been 
guided by the same mighty hand over the 
desert of the ocean, to a spot from which his 
joyful eyes beheld the unknown land, on 
which his thoughts and hopes had been for 
many years engaged. It was a beautiful level 
island, covered with trees like an orchard, and 
the inhabitants were soon seen running to- 
wards the shore, to gaze at the wonderful 
sight which was presented by the little fleet 
of Columbus. He entered his small boat, and 
was rowed to the rural spot ; he sprung on it 
with joy, and kneeled down to offer thanks- 
giving to God with tears of gratitude. As he 
approached, the wild natives fled ; but one of 


10 


INTRODUCTION. 


them, more courageous than the rest, ventured 
to return ; and others, seeing that he was not 
harmed, soon joined him. They expressed 
their astonishment by making signs that they 
thought Columbus and his companions had 
come from the sky, and that the sails of the 
vessels were the wings on which they had 
flown down. He remained all the day amidst 
the refreshing groves, noticing the artless na- 
tives, and giving to them glass beads, and other 
trifles, which they received with wonder and 
gladness, and brought in return cakes, formed 
from the roots of a plant which they culti- 
vated in their fields. They had ornaments 
of gold around their necks, and made Colum- 
bus understand that they got them from a 
country to the south of their island. As he 
thought that the island was near India, he 
called the natives Indians ; and that name has 
been continued to all the original inhabitants 
of the new world. He gave the name of 
San Salvador to the island ; it is one of the 
cluster which is now called the Bahamas. 

When he had spent two days in examining 
the island, he determined to sail again and 
visit others, which he understood from the 
natives, were not distant. He continued sail- 
ing in different directions, and discovered the 
islands of Cuba and Hispaniola ; he then re- 
turned to Spain, and entered the port of Palos, 
March 15, 1493, after an absence of 7 months 
and 12 days. When the inhabitants heard of 


INTRODUCTION 


11 


his arrival, there was a great tumult; and 
when they knew he had discovered “ the un- 
known land,” and that some of the natives 
had willingly returned with him, they were 
ready to receive him with such honours as 
they would have paid to the king. What a 
contrast to the time of his departure, when 
every tongue was uttering lamentations or 
abuse ! 

When the king and queen heard of his re- 
turn and success, they ordered great prepara- 
tions to be made for welcoming him, and he 
was every where surrounded by a wondering 
and admiring multitude. Who would have 
thought that he was the same Columbus, who 
but a few years before, had stood at the con- 
vent gate, begging bread and water for his 
child ! In the course of the next twelve years 
he made four very important voyages, and in 
honour of him, all the newly found world 
should have been called Columbia. He was 
deprived of this distinction, by a rich mer- 
chant of Italy, Amerigo Vespucio, who sailed 
with a large fleet, in 1501, and aided by the 
publications and maps of Columbus, reached 
a more southern part of the continent than the 
great discoverer, and gave so interesting an 
account of his voyage, and of the country he 
had seen-, that his name was given to it, as if 
the discovery were his. .But the people have 
given the names Columbia and Columbus to 


12 


INTRODUCTION. 


several places in America, especially in the 
United States, where there is a district called 
Columbia, in which is the city of Washington, 
the seat of government. Thus the names of 
the two great men are connected, to whose 
genius and virtue our country owes so much. 

While he was engaged in making discove 
ries, Columbus endured various trials of mind, 
and toils of body ; and after all his faithful ser- 
vices, the king of Spain refused even to fur- 
nish him the means of paying his seamen, for 
whom he pleaded earnestly, although many 
of them had acted as his enemies. The 
amiable queen, Isabella, was an unchanged 
friend ; but she died, and then it was vain for 
Columbus to ask for justice. He wrote to a 
friend, that he had done all in his power, and 
that he left the result to God, who had never 
forsaken him in his time of need. In his 
seventieth year, he felt that all his cares 
would soon cease, and he settled his earthly 
affairs and prepared for death. He charged 
his children to be active in spreading abroad 
the Christian religion ; and on the 20th of May 
1506, he uttered his last words, which were, 
“Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my 
spirit.” 

The accounts which had been published 
by Columbus, caused many nations to desire 
to have possession of some portions of the 
new world. French, Dutch, and English 

















* 











INTRODUCTION. 


15 


navigators made voyages of discovery, and 
claimed those parts on which they landed ; 
and their governments made settlements on 
them. In the year 1496, John Cabot had the 
command of a small English fleet, with which 
he sailed to the west, and discovered a large 
island, which his sailors called Newfound- 
land. He then sailed along the coast of North 
America, for some distance, but did not land. 
Several attempts were afterwards made by the 
English to form settlements in it, but they 
were not successful until April, 1607, when 
one hundred and five of them landed in Vir- 
ginia, and built a town, which they called 
Jamestown, in honour of their king. 

One of the most active of those settlers 
was Captain Smith, who gained the. good will 
of all the natives near the settlement ; but being 
one day at some distance from it, he was 
seized by a party of strange Indians, and taken 
to their king, Powhatan. It was determined 
that the prisoner should be put to death by 
having his head beat with clubs. He was 
laid on a large stone, and the death clubs were 
raised, when Pocahontas, the daughter of the 
king, threw herself beside him, and folding 
her arms around him, laid her head on his, and 
entreated that his life might be spared. She 
was only thirteen years of age, and was the 
darling of her father, who consented to her 
request, and Captain Srnith was permitted to 


1G 


INTRODUCTION. 


return to Jamestown. Some time after, she 
was married, with the consent of her father, to 
a young Englishman, named Rolfe, and this 
secured Powhatan as a faithful and powerful 
friend to the settlers. Pocahontas professed 
belief in the Christian religion, and was bap- 
tized by the name of Rebecca. 

In 1620, the second English settlement in 
North America was made. A number of 
families, who were not at liberty to worship 
God as they thought right, went over to Hol- 
land. They were kindly received, and had 
remained there for ten years, supporting them- 
selves by their industry, when they resolved, 
after frequent and serious prayer, to cross the 
Atlantic, and seek a residence in America; 
the manners of the people in Holland being 
such as they feared might lead their offspring 
astray. One hundred and one arrived, like 
pilgrims, in the beginning of winter, (Nov. 11, 
1620,) in a strange country, where there was 
no friend to welcome them, nor shelter for 
them to enter. They purchased land from 
the Indians in Massachusetts, and began to 
clear a spot for a town which they called 
New Plymouth. They endured, with resolute 
cheerfulness, the toils and dangers of forming 
homes in a wilderness, because they believed 
that God would “not leave them, nor forsake 
them.” They desired to “ worship him in 
spirit and in truth,” and trusted in his pro- 


INTRODUCTION. 


17 


mise that “ all things should work together 
for their good. 

Other settlements were gradually made in 
different parts of the country. Maryland was 
colonized in 1633, under Lord Baltimore. 
The settlers of Connecticut received a charter 
in 1662, from King Charles II. permitting the 
people to make their own laws, and in 1663 
similar rights were given to Rhode-Island, 
both of which provinces were settled by inde- 
pendent colonies, chiefly from Massachusetts. 
The country now forming the states of North 
Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia were 
granted to Lord Clarendon and others, in 1663. 
New York and New Jersey, which had been 
previously occupied by the Dutch, were granted 
by King Charles to his brother, the Duke of 
York, and were easily subdued by the Eng- 
lish. In October, 1682, William Penn, from 
whom Pennsylvania was named, brought from 
England a number of families, who had been 
persecuted On account of their religious opin- 
ions. He purchased land for them from the 
Indians, who kindly taught them how to 
make sodded huts, on the spot where Phila- 
delphia now stands. Each settlement was 
called a Province, and the inhabitants made 
regulations for their own government, but 
acknowledged themselves to be subjects of 
the king of England. Those who had fled 
from their native land, that they might wor- 

b 2 A 


18 


INTRODUCTION. 


ship God with freedom, believed that they 
should have fulfilled to them His promise 
which they found in the Scriptures — “ Though 
I have scattered them, yet I will be unto 
them as a little sanctuary in the countries 
where they shall come.” 


THE 


LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 


CHAPTER I. 

1732—1762. 

To give us the delightful assurance, that 
we are always under the watchful care of our 
almighty and kind Creator, He has told us 
that He notices the movements of every little 
sparrow ; and as we are “ of more value than 
many sparrows,” He will surely ever care for 
us. It was His powerful and kind care that 
protected and guided Columbus, the once poor 
sailor boy, to obtain the favour of a great king 
and queen ; and then to pass over the waves 
of a dangerous ocean, in a little vessel, and 
reach in safety an unknown land. The same 
powerful and kind care which protected and 
guided houseless strangers to a land of free- 
dom and peace, gave Washington to their 
children, to lead them on to take a place 
amongst the nations of the earth. His history 
is as a shining light upon the path of virtue ; 
for lie “ acknowledged God in all his ways.” 

George Washington was the third son of 
Augustine Washington, whose grandfather 

19 


20 


LIFE OF 


left England, his native country, in 1657, and 
settled at Bridges Creek, in Virginia, where, 
on the 22d of February, in the year 1732, his 
great grandson, George, was born.* 

One of the first lessons which young Wash- 
ington received from his faithful parents, was, 
the importance of always speaking the truth ; 
and they enjoyed a satisfactory reward for 
their attention to this duty; for through his 
childhood, “ the law of truth was in his 
mouth,” so that he was not known in one in- 
stance to tell a falsehood, either to obtain a 
desired indulgence, or to escape a deserved 
punishment or reproof. His character as a 
lover of truth, was so well known at the school 
which he attended, that the children were 
certain of being believed, when they related 
any thing, if they could say,* “ George Wash- 
ington says it was so.” In all the little dis- 
putes of his school-fellows, he was called on 
to say which party was right, and his decisions 
were always satisfactory. 

When he was ten years old, his worthy 
father died, and he became the care of an 
anxious mother, whose fortune was not suffi- 
cient to enable her to give him more than a 
plain English education. He was very fond 
of studying mathematics, and applied his mind 

* The birth day of Washington was the eleventh Feb- 
ruary, 1731, according to the dates used at that time ; but, 
as in the year 1752, the English dates were altered to con- 
form with those of the rest of Europe, the day is that 
which is here given, twenty-second February. 1732- 


WASHINGTON. 


21 


diligently, in improving all the instruction 
which he could get in that science. As he 
grew up to manhood, he was remarkable for 
the strength and activity of his frame. In 
running, leaping, and managing a horse, he 
was unequalled by his companions ; and he 
could with ease climb the heights of his na- 
tive mountains, to look down alone from some 
wild crag upon his followers, who were pant- 
ing from the toils of the rugged way. By 
these healthful exercises the vigour of his 
constitution was increased, and he gained that 
hardiness so important to him in the employ- 
ments designed for him by his Creator. 

Mrs. Washington was an affectionate pa- 
rent; but she did not encourage in herself 
that imprudent tenderness, which so often 
causes a mother to foster the passions of her 
children by foolish indulgences, and which 
seldom fails to destroy the respect which 
every child should feel for a parent. George 
was early made to understand that he must 
obey his mother, and therefore he respected 
as well as loved her. She was kind to his 
young companions, but they thought her stern, 
because they always felt that they must be- 
have correctly in her presence. The character 
of the mother, as well as that of the son, are 
shown in the following incident. Mrs. Wash- 
ington owned a remarkably fine colt, which 
she valued very much ; but which, though 
old enough for use, had never been mounted ; 




22 


LIFE OF 

no one would venture to ride it, or attempt to 
break its wild and vicious spirit. George 
proposed to some of his young companions, 
that they should assist him to secure the colt 
until he could mount it, as he had determined 
that he would try to tame it. Soon after sun- 
rise, one morning, they drove the wild animal 
into an enclosure, and with great difficulty 
succeeded in placing a bridle on it. George 
then sprang upon its back, and the vexed colt 
bounded over the open fields, prancing and 
plunging to get rid of his burden. The bold 
rider kept his seat firmly, and the struggle 
between them became alarming to his com- 
panions, who were watching him. The speed 
of the colt increased, until at length, in making 
a furious effort to throw his conqueror, he 
burst a large blood-vessel, and instantly died. 
George was unhurt, but was much troubled 
by the unexpected result of his exploit. His 
companions soon joined him, and when they 
saw the beautiful colt lifeless, the first words 
they spoke were, “What will your mother 
say — who can tell her?” They were called 
to breakfast, and soon after they were seated 
at the table, Mrs. Washington said, “ Well, 
young gentlemen, have you seen my fine sor- 
rel colt in your rambles?” No answer was 
given, and the question was repeated ; her son 
George then replied — “ Your sorrel colt is 
dead, mother.” He gave her an exact account 
of the event. The flush of displeasure which 


WASHINGTON. 


2 


first rose on her cheek, soon passed away; 
and she said calmly, “ While I regret the loss 
of my favourite, I rejoice in my son , who al- 
ivays speaks the truth.” 

In his fifteenth year, he had so strong a 
desire to be actively employed, that he ap- 
plied for a place as a midshipman in the 
English navy, (for our country was then un- 
der the government of Great Britain,) and 
succeeded in obtaining it. Full of youthful 
expectations of enjoyment in a new scene, he 
prepared ardently to engage in it, when he 
became convinced that by doing so, he would 
severely wound the heart of an anxious pa- 
rent; and with a true spirit of heroism he 
denied himself, and in obedience to the com- 
mand, “ Honour thy mother,” he gave up his 
fondly cherished plan, and yielded his own 
inclinations, to promote her comfort. Thus, 
while his manly superiority to companions of 
his own age caused admiration, his filial ten- 
derness was an example to them of compliance 
with the direction which is given to children 
in the word of God. “ Let them learn first 
to show piety at home, and to requite their 
parents,” and they are assured that “ this is 
good and acceptable to the Lord.” Washing- 
ton proved the truth of this assurance ; for, to 
the act of filial regard which “ requited” the 
anxious cares of his mother, may be traced 
his usefulness to his country, and the glory of 
his character. If he had crossed his mother’s 


21 LIFE OF 

wish, and entered the British navy as a mid- 
shipman, it is not probable, that he would 
ever have deserved, or obtained, the title of 
“ Father of his country.” 

Being unwilling to remain inactive, young 
Washington employed himself industriously 
and usefully in surveying unsettled lands ; and 
when he was nineteen years of age, he was 
appointed one of the adjutant generals of Vir- 
ginia, with the rank of a major. At that time, 
the French nation had large settlements in 
Canada, and in Louisiana, and they deter- 
mined on connecting those settlements by a 
line of forts ; in doing this they took posses- 
sion of a tract of land, which was considered 
to be within the province of Virginia. The 
governor of Virginia, (Mr. Dinwiddie) thought 
it was his duty to notice this, in the name of 
his king ; and it was very important, that the 
person w r hom he employed in the business, 
should have resolution and prudence. Young 
Washington was worthy of his confidence, 
and willingly undertook the perilous duty; as 
it gave him an opportunity of being actively 
employed for the advantage of his native pro- 
vince. The dangers which he knew he must 
meet, did not, for a moment, deter him from 
consenting to set out immediately on the toil- 
some journey, although winter was near. He 
was to take a letter from the governor, to the 
commanding officer of the French troops, who 
were stationed on the Ohio river; and the 


WASHINGTON. 


25 


way he had to go, was through a part of the 
country that had never been furrowed by the 
plough, or, indeed, marked by any footsteps, 
but those of wild animals, or ferocious Indians. 
Many of those Indians were enemies, and 
those who had shown any disposition to be 
friendly, could not be safely trusted. 

The same day, (October 31, 1753,) on which 
Washington received the letter which he was 
to be the bearer of, he left Williamsburgh, 
and travelled with speed until he arrived at 
the frontier settlement of the province ; and 
there engaged a guide to show him the way 
over the wild and rugged Alleghany moun- 
tain, which, at that season of the year, it was 
difficult to pass. The waters to be crossed 
were high, and the snow to be waded through, 
was deep ; but persevering resolutely, he ar- 
rived at Turtle Creek, where he was told by 
an Indian trader, that the French commander 
had died a short time before, and that the 
French troops had gone into winter quarters. 

He went on with increased ardour, because 
the difficulty of his duty was increased ; but 
he did not neglect the opportunity of examin- 
ing the country through which he passed ; 
wishing to discover the best situations on 
which forts could be erected for the defence 
of the province. 

As the waters were impassable without 
swimming the horses, he got a canoe to take 
the baggage about ten miles, to the forks of 
C 


LIFE OF 


the Ohio river; intending to cross the Alle- 
ghany there. In his journal he wrote, “ as I 
got down before the canoe, I spent some time 
in viewing the rivers and the land in the fork, 
which I think extremely well suited for a fort, 
as it has the absolute command of both rivers. 
The land at the point is twenty or twenty- 
five feet above the common surface.” 

The spot thus described was soon after- 
wards the site of the French fort Duquesne. 
It was subsequently called fort Pitt by the 
English, and from this the name of the town 
of Pittsburg was taken, which was built near 
the fort, and is now a city, containing 15,000 
inhabitants. Washington remained a few days 
in that neighbourhood, for the purpose of en- 
deavouring to persuade the Indian warriors to 
be friendly to the English. By a firm but 
mild manner, he gained friends among the in- 
habitants of the forest, and obtained guides tb 
conduct him by the shortest way to the fort, 
where he expected to find a French officer, to 
whom he might give the letter from the go- 
vernor, as the commander was dead. 

He arrived there in safety, and when he 
had received an answer from the officer, set 
out immediately on his return, and the journey 
proved a very dangerous and toilsome one. 
Some extracts from his journal, which he 
kept with exactness, will show his disregard 
of self, when he was performing a duty for 
the benefit of others. He'tiad put on an In- 


WASHINGTON. 


27 


dian walking dress, and given his horse to as- 
sist in carrying provisions ; the cold increased 
very much and the roads were getting worse 
every day, from the freezing of a deep snow, 
so that the horses became almost unable to 
travel. After describing this difficulty, he 
wrote thus: — 

“ As I was uneasy to get back, to make- a 
report of my proceedings to his honour the 
governor, I determined to prosecute my jour- 
ney the nearest way, through the woods, on 
foot. I took my necessary papers, pulled off 
my clothes, and tied myself up in a watch 
coat. Then, with gun in hand and pack on 
my back, in which were my papers and pro- 
visions, I set out with Mr. Gist, fitted in the 
same maimer. We fell in with a party of In- 
dians, who had laid in wait for us. One of 
them fired, not fifteen steps off, but fortunately 
missed ; we walked on the remaining part of 
the night, without making any stop, that we 
might get the start so far, as to be out of the 
reach of their pursuit the next day, as we 
were well assured that they would follow our 
track as soon as it was light. The next day 
we continued travelling until quite dark, and 
got to the river. We expected to have found 
the river frozen, but it was not, only about 
fifty yards from each shore. The ice I sup- 
pose had been broken up, for it was driving 
in vast quantities. There was no way of get- 
ting over but on a raft ; which we set about 


28 


LIFE OF 


making, with but one poor hatchet, and finish- 
ed just after sun-setting: this was a whole 
day’s work. We got it launched, then went 
on board of it, and set off; but before we 
were half-way over, we were jammed in the 
ice in such a manner, that we expected every 
moment our raft to sink, and ourselves to 
perish. I put out my setting pole to try to 
stop the raft, that the ice might pass by, when 
the rapidity of the stream threw it with so 
much violence against the pole, that it jerked 
me out into ten feet water.” 

In this dangerous situation he was saved by 
the protecting hand of God, and enabled again 
to get on the raft ; and by the next morning, 
the river was frozen so hard, that there was 
no difficulty in getting to the shore on the ice. 
The remainder of the journey was very fa- 
tiguing, being in the month of December, and 
for fifteen days it either snowed or rained. 

He arrived the 16th of January at Williams- 
burgh, and delivered the important letter to 
the governor. The answer of the French 
officer, which was contained in the letter, was„ 
such as to make needful immediate prepara- 
tions for defending the frontier of the province. 
The resolution with which Washington had 
performed the duty entrusted to him, and the 
judgment he had shown in his conduct to- 
wards the Indians, gained the favourable opi- 
nion of the people of the province, as well as 
that of the governor, and he was appointed a 


WASHINGTON. 


29 


» 







LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 


31 


lieutenant-colonel of the regiment which was 
formed to march to the frontier', in order to 
prevent the French erecting their forts on it. 
Ardent and active, he obtained permission to 
march with two companies, in advance of the 
regiment, to a place called the Great Meadows ; 
he thought that in doing so, he would have 
an opportunity of getting early information as 
to the movements of the French, and of form- 
ing a treaty with the Indians, to prevent their 
joining them. On arriving there, he was in- 
formed, by an Indian, that the French com- 
mander had sent a party to stop the American 
workmen, who were erecting a fort; and that 
they were forming one for themselves, called 
fort Duquesne. The Indian also gave the in- 
formation, that French troops were advancing 
from that fort towards the Great Meadows. 
The night on which this account was given, 
was dark and rainy ; but Washington marched 
rapidly with his soldiers to the place where 
the Indian said the French would be encamp- 
ed ; and there he found them, and surrounded 
them so unexpectedly, that they gave them- 
selves up as his prisoners. The chief officer 
of that part of the regiment which was march- 
ing slowly on, died ; and Washington then 
had the entire command of about four hundred 
men. They joined him, and he directed them 
to form a shelter for their horses and pro- 
visions; when it was completed, they named 
it fort Necessity. 


After placing the horses and baggage in it, 
Washington marched with his troops towards 
fort Duquesne, for the purpose of endeavour- 
ing to drive the French from it; but when he 
had advanced about thirteen miles, an Indian 
told him, that there were “ as many French- 
men coming towards him, as there were pi- 
geons in the woods and he thought it was 
most prudent to return to his little fort, and 
meet their attack there. He returned, and 
assisted his men in digging a ditch round the 
fort, and while they were thus engaged, about 
fifteen hundred French and Indians made their 
appearance, and soon began to attack them. 
The ditch was not sufficiently completed to 
be of any use. The Indians sent their arrows 
from behind the surrounding trees, and the 
French fired from the shelter of the high grass. 
Washington continued outside of the little 
fort, directing and aiding his soldiers, from 
ten o’clock until dark, when the French com- 
mander made an offer to cease the attack, if 
the fort would be given up to him. ' The con- 
ditions he first named, Washington would not 
agree to ; but at last, the French commander 
consented to allow the troops to march out 
with their baggage, and return to the inhabit- 
ed part of the province, and Washington then 
gave up the fort. He returned to Williams- 
burgh, and the courage with which he had 
acted, and the favourable terms he had obtained 
from so large a force, increased the confidence 


WASHINGTON. 


33 


of his countrymen in his character. This oc- 
currence took place on the third of July, 1754. 

In the course of the next winter, orders 
were received, that officers who had commis- 
sions from the king, should be placed above 
those belonging to the province, without regard 
to their rank. The feeling of what was due to 
him as an American, prevented Washington 
from submitting to this unjust regulation, and 
he resigned his commission. Many letters were 
written to him, to persuade him not to do so ; 
and he answered them, with an assurance 
that he would “ serve willingly, when he 
could do so without dishonour.” His eldest 
brother had died, and left to him a farm called 
Mount Vernon, situated in Virginia, near the 
Potomac river ; he took possession of it, and 
began to employ himself industriously in its 
cultivation. While he was thus engaged, 
General Braddock was sent from England, to 
prepare and command troops for the defence 
of Virginia, through the summer. Hearing of 
the conduct of Washington as an officer, and 
of his reasons for giving up his commission, 
he invited him to become his aid-de-camp. 
He accepted the invitation, on condition that 
he might be permitted to return to his farm 
when the active duties of the campaign should 
be over. 

The army was formed of two regiments of 
British troops, and a few companies of Vir 
ginians. The third day after the march com- 


34 


LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 


menced, Washington was taken ill, with a 
violent fever. He would not consent to be left 
behind, and was laid in a covered wagon. He 
thought that it. was very important to reach 
the frontier as soon as possible, and he knew 
the difficulties of the way ; he therefore pro- 
posed to General Braddock, who asked his 
advice, to send on a part of the army, while 
the other part moved slowly, with the artil- 
lery and baggage wagons. Twelve hundred 
men were chosen, and General Braddock ac- 
companied them ; but though not cumbered 
with baggage, their movements did not satisfy 
.Washington. He wrote to his brother, that, 
“ instead of pushing on with vigour, without 
minding a little rough road, they were halting 
to level every molehill, and erect bridges over 
every brook.” What seemed mountains to 
them, were molehills to the ardent temper of 
Washington. His illness increased so much, 
that the physician said his life would be en- 
dangered by going on, and General Braddock 
would not suffer him to do so, but gave him 
a promise to have him brought after him, so 
soon as he could bear the ride. He recovered 
sufficiently, in a short time, to join the ad- 
vanced troops ; and though very weak, entered 
immediately on the performance of his duties. 

General Braddock proceeded on his march 
without disturbance, until he arrived at the 
Monongahela river, about seven miles from 
Fort Duquesne. As he was preparing to 


WASHINGTON. 


37 


cross the river, at the place since called Brad- 
dock’s Ford, a few Indians were seen on the 
opposite shore, who made insulting gestures, 
and then turned and fled as the British troops 
advanced. Braddock gave orders that the In- 
dians should be pursued. Colonel Washing- 
ton was well acquainted with the manner in 
which the French, assisted by Indians, made 
their attacks ; and being aware of the danger 
into which the troops might be led, he earn- 
estly entreated General Braddock not to pro- 
ceed, until he should, with his Virginia ran- 
gers, search the forest. His proposal offended 
Braddock, who disregarded the prudent coun- 
sel, and ordered his troops to cross the river ; 
the last of them were yet wading in it, when 
the bullets of an unseen enemy thinned the 
ranks of those who had been incautiously led 
into the entrance of a hollow, where the French 
and Indians were concealed by the thick under- 
wood, from which they could securely fire on 
the English. In a few moments, the fearful 
war-whoop was sounded, and the French and 
Indians rushed from their shelter on the aston- 
ished troops of Braddock, and pursued them 
to the banks of the Monongahela. 

In vain did their commander, and the un- 
daunted Washington, endeavour to restore 
them to order and prevent their flight. The 
deadly aim of the enemy was so sure, that in 
a very* short time Washington was the only 
aid of General Braddock that was left to carry 
D 


38 


LI*E OF 


his orders and assist in encouraging the af- 
frighted troops. For three hours, he was ex- 
posed to the aim of the most perfect marks- 
men ; two horses fell under him ; a third was 
wounded; four balls pierced his coat, and 
several grazed his sword ; every other officer 
was either killed or wounded, and he alone 
remained unhurt. The Indians directed the 
flight of their arrows towards his breast, and 
the French made him a mark for their rifles, 
but both were harmless, for the shield of his 
God protected him, and “ covered his head in 
the heat of battle.” His safety, in the midst 
of such attacks, astonished his savage enemies, 
and they called him “ The Spirit-protected 
man, who would be a chief of nations, for he 
could not die in battle.” Thus did even the 
savages own a divine power in his preserva- 
tion ; and the physician, who was on the battle 
ground, in speaking of him afterwards, said, 
“ I expected every moment to see him fall ; — 
his duty, his situation, exposed him to every 
danger ; nothing but the superintending care 
of Providence could have saved him from the 
fate of all around him.” — This battle took place 
on the 8th of July, 1755. In a note to a ser- 
mon preached a month afterwards, by the Rev. 
Mr. Davies, of Virginia, (afterwards president 
of Princeton College) we find mention made 
by the author of “ that heroic youth, Colonel 
Washington, whom I cannot but hope Provi- 
dence has hitherto preserved, in so signal a 


WASHINGTON. 39 

manner, lor some important service to his 
country.” 

General Braddock was mortally wounded, 
and his few remaining soldiers then fled in 
every direction. But his brave and faithful 
aid, with about thirty courageous Virginians, 
remained on the field, to save their wounded 
commander from the hatchet and the scalp- 
ing knife of the Indians. They conveyed 
him with tenderness and speed towards that 
part of his army which was slowly advan- 
cing with the baggage, and he died in their 
camp, and was buried in the middle of a 
road, that his grave might be concealed 
from the Indians by wagon tracks. A few 
years since, his remains were removed to a 
short distance, as the great Cumberland road, 
made by the government of the United States, 
was to pass directly over the spot where 
he had been laid. More than seventy-five 
years have passed, since the terrible scene of 
Braddock’s defeat. The plough has since 
furrowed the ground which was then moist- 
ened with the blood of the slain ; but it is 
saddening to see on it white spots of crumbled 
bones, and to find amidst the green stalks of 
grain, buttons of the British soldiers, marked 
with the number of their regiment, and even 
the brazen ornaments of their caps. “ Brad- 
dock’s road,” as the path was called, which 
his troops cut through the forest, is now almost 
overgrown with bushes ; and few travellers 


40 


LIFE OF 


pass near to it, without stopping to look along 
its windings, and recall the time when it was 
filled with animated soldiers, who were soon 
to be silenced by the destructive weapons of 
war. 

In writing an account of this dreadful de- 
feat, Washington said, “ See the wondrous 
works of Providence, and the uncertainty of 
human things !” He was much distressed 
by the loss of the army : and the officer next 
in command to General Braddock, instead of 
endeavouring to prepare for a better defence, 
went into winter quarters, although it was 
only the month of August. It was thought 
necessary to raise more troops immediately, 
and the command of all that should be raised 
in Virginia was offered to Washington, with 
the privilege of naming his own officers. He 
willingly accepted this offer, as he could do 
so without placing himself under British com- 
manders, who were not really above him in 
rank. He immediately set off to visit the 
troops that had been placed in different 
situations along the borders of the province: 
and on his return to prepare for an active de- 
fence, he was overtaken by a messenger, with 
an account, that a number of French troops 
and Indian warriors, divided into parties, 
were capturing and murdering the inhabitants 
of the back settlements, — burning the houses 
and destroying the crops ; and that the troops 
stationed there, were unable to protect them. 


WASHINGTON. 


41 


Washington immediately used every means 
within his power to provide for their relief ; 
but it was impossible to defend, with a few 
troops, a frontier of almost four hundred miles, 
from an enemy that “ skulked by day, and 
plundered by night.” While he was anxiously 
doing what he could, he wrote to the gover- 
. nor an account of the distress around him ; 
and added, “ I see their situation, — I know 
their danger, and participate their sufferings, 
without having the power to give them fur- 
ther relief than uncertain promises. * * 

The supplicating tears of the women, and the ' 
moving petitions of the men, melt me with 
deadly sorrow.” — It might have been expect- 
ed, that the people in their distress would blame 
him for not protecting them better ; but no 
murmur arose against him ; they all acknow- 
ledged, that he was doing as much for them 
as was within his power. 

He wrote to the lieutenant-governor the 
most earnest and pressing requests for more 
assistance ; but instead of receiving it, he was 
treated unkindly, as he related in a letter to a 
friend. — “Whence it arises, or why, I am 
truly ignorant, but my strongest representa- 
tions of matters, relative to tiie peace of the 
frontiers, are disregarded as idle and frivolous ; 
my propositions and measures as partial and 
selfish ; and all my sincerest endeavours for 
the service of my country, perverted to the 
worst purposes. My orders are dark, doubt- 
d 2 


42 


LIFE OF 


ful, and uncertain. — To-day approved, to- 
morrow condemned ; left to act and proceed 
at hazard, and blamed without the benefit of 
defence. However, I am determined to bear 
up some time longer, in the hope of better 
regulations.” — Though disappointed in all 
his best formed plans, by the obstinacy and 
ill-nature of the person who had the power to 
control him, and pained by the increasing 
sufferings around him, which he was not en- 
abled to relieve, yet he did not suffer an an- 
gry resentment to induce him to give up the 
effort of doing some good. 

He continued his active and humane en- 
deavours, and pleaded for the relief of his suf- 
fering countrymen, until his pleadings were 
called impertinent. In answer to this, he 
wrote to the governor, “ I must beg leave, 
in justification of my own conduct, to observe, 
that it is with pleasure I receive reproof, when 
reproof is due; because no person can be 
readier to accuse me than I am to acknowledge 
an error, when I have committed it ; or more 
desirous of atoning for a crime, when I am 
sensible of being guilty of one. But on the 
other hand, it is with concern I remark, that 
my conduct, although I have uniformly studied 
to make it as unexceptionable as I could, does 
not appear to you in a favourable light.” — 
With calm dignity he endured a continuance 
of such vexations, without ceasing to toil in 
his almost hopeless work of humanity. 


WASHINGTON. 


43 


A new commander of the British troops 
was sent from England, and he listened to 
Washington’s opinion, that the frontiers could 
not be freed from the dreadful visits of the 
Indians, in connection with the French, until 
they were driven from Fort Duquesne; for 
that was the place from which they started on 
their destructive expeditions. When it was 
determined that this should be attempted, 
Washington advanced with a few troops, to 
open the way for the army ; but before they 
reached the fort, the French left it, and the 
English took possession of it, November 1758, 
and named it Fort Pitt. As Washington had 
expected, the possession of this fort prevented 
all further attacks on the frontiers ; and when 
his countrymen were freed from the dangers 
which he had left his farm to assist in defend- 
ing them against, he determined on returning 
to it. His health had been injured by his 
being exposed to severe cold, and being 
often, for many days, unsheltered from the 
falling rain ; and he felt that he ought to use 
means to restore it, as he could do so with- 
out neglecting a more important duty. He 
resigned his commission, and the officers 
whom he had commanded united in offering 
to him affectionate assurances of regret for 
the loss of “ such an excellent commander, 
such a sincere friend, and so affable a com- 
panion.” 

Soon after his return to his farm, in the 


44 


LIFE OF 


twenty-seventh year of his age, he married 
Mrs. Custis, a lady to whom he had been 
long attached, and who was deserving of his 
affection. She had an amiable temper, and 
was an agreeable companion ; and in per- 
forming all the duties, of a wife, she made his 
home a scene of domestic comfort, which he 
felt no desire to leave. Employing himself 
in directing the cultivation of. his ground, and 
in the performance of all the private duties 
of his situation, he lived for several years 
in retirement, except when attending the legis- 
lature of Virginia, of which he was a mem- 
ber. 

For the benefit of his health, he sometimes 
visited a public spring in his native state, to 
which sick persons went, with the hope of 
being relieved by using the water. At the 
season when there were many persons there, 
it was the custom of a baker to furnish a par- 
ticular kind of bread, for those who could 
afford to pay a good price for it. One day 
it was observed by a visiter, that several mise- 
rably poor sick persons tottered into the room 
where the bread was kept, and looked at the 
baker, who nodded his head, and each one took 
up a loaf, and, with a cheerful countenance, 
walked feebly away. The visiter praised the 
baker for his charitable conduct, in letting 
those have his bread, whom he knew could 
never pay him ; but he honestly answered, “ I 
lose nothing,— Colonel Washington is here, 


WASHINGTON. 


45 


and all the sick poor may have as much of my 
bread as they can eat ; he pays the bill, and I 
assure you it is no small one.” 

All his private actions were as deserving 
of the approbation of his countrymen, as those 
of a public nature had been of their respect 
and praise ; and those who were nearest to 
him, and knew him best, loved him most. 


CHAPTER II. 

1763—1776. 

The desire to possess power, and the ill 
use of it when possessed, have caused much 
misery in nations, societies, and families ; and 
even children show the evil effects in over- 
bearing conduct to each other, and in delight- 
ing to crush the feeble worm which crawls at 
their feet. But if that love which fulfils the law 
of God were in every heart, the . precept of 
our divine Redeemer, “ All things whatsoever 
ye would that men should do to you, do ye 
even so to them,” would be the rule of all 
actions ; then families, societies, and nations, 
would be ever peaceful. The English govern- 
ment, however, disregarded this precept, and 
made an unjust use of their power over the 
American provinces. The people paid various 


46 


LIFE OF 


duties on their trade, and made no objection 
to doing so ; but at the close of the war with 
the French, the English parliament deter- 
mined on taxing them, for the purpose, they 
said, of assisting to pay the expenses of the 
war. The Americans had lost a great num- 
ber of their young men in that war, and had 
also contributed their full proportion of money 
for carrying it on; this new tax, therefore, 
caused universal displeasure, and they began 
to think, and to say, that parliament had no 
right to tax them, as they were not allowed to 
send members to that body to represent them. 

Petitions against the tax were sent to the 
king and to parliament, but they were disre- 
garded ; and in March 1765, a law, called the 
“ stamp act,” was passed, which was to oblige 
the Americans in their business transactions, to 
use paper on which the seal of the* British go- 
vernment was stamped. That paper was to be 
taxed, and no writings of agreement were to 
be considered binding, unless they were writ- 
ten on stamped paper. The Americans reso- 
lutely determined on opposing this tax. In 
New York the act was printed, and carried 
about the streets, by the title of “ The Folly 
of England, and the ruin of America and 
when the ships that brought the stamps ar- 
rived at Philadelphia, all the vessels in the 
harbour hoisted their colours half-mast high, 
as a sign of mourning, and the state-house bell 
was muffled, and continued to toll until evening. 


WASHINGTON. 


47 


The same dissatisfaction was felt in all the 
provinces ; and when this was known in En- 
gland, there were many speeches made on 
the subject, by members of parliament. One 
of them, Mr. Grenville, said, the Americans 
ought not to object to assist in paying the 
debts of the English government, for they 
were “ children of their planting, and were 
nourished by their indulgence, and protected 
by their arms, until they had grown up to a 
good degree of strength and opulence.” Colo- 
nel Barre, a member who was desirous that 
they should be treated justly, said, in answer — 
“ ‘Children planted by your care’ ! No — your 
oppression planted them in America ! They 
fled from your tyranny into a then uncultivated 
land, where they were exposed to all the hard- 
ships to which human nature is liable. * They 
nourished by your indulgence !’ No — they 
grew by your neglect! When you began to 
care about them, that care was exercised in 
sending persons to rule over them, whose be- 
haviour, on many occasions, has caused the 
blood of those sons of liberty to boil within 
them ! ‘ They protected by your arms !’ 

They have nobly taken up arms in your 
defence ; have exerted their valour amidst 
their constant and laborious industry, for the 
defence of a country, the interior of which, 
while its frontiers were drenched in blood, 
has yielded all its little savings to your en- 
largement.” His appeal, however, had no 


48 


LIFE OF 


effect, and the eloquence of the great Earl of 
Chatham, with the efforts of other patriots in 
England, availed as little in stopping the mad 
career of the British government in its op- 
pressive acts. 

The assembly of Massachusetts, proposed 
a Congress to be held at New York, to con- 
sult together on the subject of the right of the 
English government to tax them. Repre- 
sentatives from nine of the provinces met ac- 
cordingly, in October 1765, and decided that 
the colonies alone had the right to lay taxes. 
This decision was expressed in a petition to 
the king, and to the parliament. When the 
parliament found that the resolution to op- 
pose the stamp act, was so general and firm 
in all the provinces, it was repealed ; but as 
they were determined to show the Americans 
that they would not give up the power of tax- 
ing them, the next year they laid a duty on 
glass, paints, and tea. Objections and petitions 
were again sent to parliament, by the Ameri- 
cans, and at length, in 1769, those duties were 
all taken off, excepting that on tea. While 
one tax was continued, the Americans would 
not be satisfied. They were not unwilling to 
pay it, because they did not wish to part with 
their money, but because they would not give 
up the principle that the English government 
had no just right to it, unless they were allowed 
to have a part in the government, by sending 
members to the parliament 


WASHINGTON. 


49 


Dr. Franklin, who was highly respected in 
Europe, not only for his good character, but 
for his wisdom in making many useful dis- 
coveries, was in England, transacting busi- 
ness for some of the inhabitants of Massachu- 
setts, his native province, and he was appoint- 
ed to present a petition from the assembly of 
that province to the English government, and 
was very active in endeavouring to obtain 
justice for his countrymen. The ill treat- 
ment which he there received, much excited 
the feelings of his countrymen, who held him 
in the highest regard. As the tax on tea was 
continued, the Americans resolved not to use 
any ; and the parliament then made an agree- 
ment with the India Tea Company, by which 
they were to send vessels with tea to the 
provinces, and receive the duties on it, and 
then pay it to the English government. But 
the Americans had resolved to resist the tax, 
no matter in what way it was laid ; and when 
the vessels arrived, they would not allow the 
tea to be landed. The people of Boston were so 
much displeased, when a vessel with a cargo 
of tea arrived there, in 1774, that seventeen of 
the most resolute men went on board, disguised 
as Indians, and threw all the tea into the sea. 

This conduct led the British government to 
determine on using all their power to punish 
the Americans, but particularly the inhabitants 
of Massachusetts ; and they made a law, that 
the governor and magistrates, and other of- 
E 


50 


LIFE OF 


fleers of that province, should no longer re- 
ceive their salaries from the people, so as to 
be dependent on them — but that they should 
be appointed by the king, and paid by him ; 
and that if any persons were accused of mur- 
der, or other great crimes, they should not be 
tried in the province, but be sent to England 
to be tried. When these new laws were 
known by the people of the other provinces, 
they sent assurances to the people of Massa- 
chusetts, that they would unite in assisting 
them to resist such injustice. The first of 
June, the day on which those laws were to 
commence, was appointed by the legislatures 
of the different provinces, as one of fasting, 
humiliation, and prayer, in which the people 
should attend their places of worship, and 
unite in asking the support and direction of 
God, in that time of public difficulty. 

One of the titles given to God is, “ Thou 
that hearest prayer and our divine Re- 
deemer has said, “ If ye abide in me, and my 
words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye 
will, and it shall be done unto you and in 
that beautiful parable of the Pharisee and the 
Publican, he has set before us an example of 
the kind of prayer that would be acceptable to 
God. No doubt many pious American hearts 
offered such a prayer, with humility and faith, 
and their prayers were granted ; for they 
never would have succeeded in defending 
their rights, unless the mighty hand of God 


WASHINGTON. 


51 


had upheld and guided them. And those who 
, bore the trials of that long and painful contest, 
proved that love to God, and reliance on his 
goodness and power, were the best principles 
of freedom, and led to the noblest sacrifices 
for their country. They began with prayer, 
and ended in victory and thanksgiving. 

A general agreement was formed, to have a 
congress of members chosen by each pro- 
vince, to consult on the best course to be pur- 
sued. Each province was to have one vote. 
On the 5th of September, in the year 1774, 
they met at Philadelphia. Washington was 
one of the members, having been sent by the 
province of Virginia. He had, on all proper 
occasions, expressed the opinion that the En- 
glish parliament had no just right to tax the 
Americans ; and he had spoken so firmly on 
the subject, that he was called “ the Virginia 
Patriot.” The congress appointed committees, 
to state what the Americans considered to be 
their rights, and to prepare an address to the 
people of England, and one to the king. Af- 
ter stating to the king their causes for com- 
plaint, they assured him, that they were will- 
ing to continue under his government, if their 
just requests were granted. They said, “ We 
ask but for peace, liberty, and safety; we do 
not solicit the grant of any new right in Qjur 
favour.” — The manner in which this petition 
was treated, convinced the Americans that 
they must submit, or prepare for mournful 


52 


LIFE OF 


events. The king declared his firm resolve to 
rule them as he thought best; and General 
Grant said in Parliament, that he “would un- 
dertake to traverse the whole country with 
five regiments, and drive the inhabitants from 
one end of the continent to the other.” 

In all their determinations, the Americans 
had no intention of commencing a war, but 
they resolved that if the English attempted to 
force them into submission, they would resist 
them. A number of troops were sent from 
England to Boston, and their commander 
placed them on Boston Neck, and fortified it 
for their security. He also seized the Ameri- 
can military stores, at several places in the 
province, and had them conveyed to Boston. 
When winter approached, he could not get as- 
sistance to build a shelter for his troops, and 
no price that he offered would induce work- 
men to labour for them ; this convinced him 
that all the people were of one mind. The 
winter passed away without any change fa- 
vourable to the Americans. A considerable 
quantity of military stores had been collected 
in the town of Concord, about eighteen miles 
from Boston. General Gage resolved to de- 
stroy them. On the night of the 18th of April, 
he sent Major Pitcairn, with a detachment of 
nine hundred men, for this purpose. They 
marched quietly, and several officers went be- 
fore, to prevent any one on the road giving 
notice of their approach. Dr. Warren, how- 


WASHINGTON. 


53 


ever, managed to send a messenger from Bos- 
ton, to give information at Lexington, where 
the English troops arrived at five o’clock in 
the morning of April 19th, and found a com- 
pany of militia, consisting of seventy men, 
who were parading under arms. Major Pit- 
cairn rode up to them, and said, “ Disperse, 
rebels; throw down your arms and disperse.” 
The soldiers at the same time ran up, huzza- 
ing; some few guns were fired, which was 
followed by a general discharge. The firing 
was continued as long as any of the mili- 
tia appeared : eight men were killed, and 
several wounded. The Americans had here- 
tofore suffered and complained, but this was 
their first active attempt to escape from the 
unjust exercise of the power which the En- 
glish possessed. The detachment proceed- 
ed to Concord ; the commanding officer sent 
six companies of light infantry to take posses- 
sion of the bridges which were beyond the 
town, while the main body were employed in 
destroying the stores in Concord. Some mi- 
litia men, who were collected from that place, 
having orders not to give the first fire, ap- 
proached one of the bridges as if to pass as 
common travellers. They were fired on, and 
two men killed. The fire was returned, and 
the English were obliged to retreat with loss. 
The inhabitants of the surrounding country 
became alarmed by the fearful sounds. The 
wagoner left his team in the road ; the farmer 
e 2 


54 


LIFE OF 


his plough in the furrow ; the blacksmith 
threw down his hammer, — and the young and 
the old, the strong and the feeble, all rushed 
towards the sad scene. The king’s troops 
were attacked in every direction, and were 
driven back to Lexington, where they met a 
large detachment, with cannon, which had 
been sent to assist them in case they were re- 
sisted. They remained a short time in Lex- 
ington, and then recommenced their march. 
They were closely followed by the Ameri- 
cans, who assailed the invaders, until they 
arrived, at sun-set, on the common of Charles- 
town, and then passed over to Bunker’s hill, 
where they were safe for the night, under the 
protection of their ships of war. The next 
morning they crossed over Charlestown ferry 
to Boston. 

The English forts at Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point, having the command of Lake 
George and Lake Champlain, it was thought 
very important to the Americans to get pos- 
session of them. A number of volunteers 
from Vermont and Connecticut, commanded 
by Colonel Ethan Allen and Colonel Bene- 
dict Arnold, marched again&U Ticpnderoga. . 
, and surprised the garrison, which surrendered 
without firing a single gun. Colonel Seth 
Warren was sent to take possession of Crown 
Point, which he did without meeting with any 
resistance. When intelligence of these events 
was brought to Congress, they recommended 


WASHINGTON. 


55 


removing the cannon and military stores to a 
place of greater safety, and directed that an 
account should be taken of them, “ in order 
that they might be safely returned, when the 
restoration of the former harmony between 
Great Britain and the Colonies, so ardently 
wished for by the latter, should render it pru- 
dent and consistent with the over-ruling law 
of self-preservation.” 

After considering all the circumstances of 
the scene at Lexington, Congress concluded 
that an American army must be formed for 
the defence of their country, and this resolve 
was made public by an address to the people 
of all the provinces. After relating the causes 
for their opposition to the English govern- 
ment, and the means that had been used, with- 
out effect, to obtain justice, they said, “ By 
one statute it is declared, that Parliament can 
of right make laws to bind us in all cases 
whatsoever ; not a single man of those who 
assume this power is chosen by us, or subject 
to our influence. * * We gratefully ac- 

knowledge, as a signal instance of the. divine 
favour towards us, that his providence would 
not permit us to be called into this severe con- 
troversy, until we were grown up to our pre- 
sent strength. We fight not for glory or for 
conquest. In our native land, in defence of 
the freedom that is our birth-right, for the pro- 
tection of our property, acquired solely by the 
honest industry of our forefathers and our- 


56 


LIFE OF 


selves, against violence actually offered, we 
have taken up arms.” 

Three more English generals arrived at 
Boston, with troops, and offered pardon to all 
those who would lay down their arms and 
submit to the king, with the exception of Sa- 
muel Adams and John Hancock, two men 
who were most distinguished by their ability 
and zeal in the common cause of their coun- 
try. This offer made the Americans more ac- 
tive, as it convinced them that there was no 
hope of safety but in preparation for defence. 

As it was expeeted that General Gage 
would send troops into the surrounding coun- 
try, the Americans resolved on raising en- 
trenchments on a height near Boston, called 
Bunker’s hill. A detachment of a thousand 
men, under the command of Colonel Prescot, 
was sent for that purpose ; but by some mis- 
take, they proceeded to another high piece of 
ground, called Breed’s hill, where they form- 
ed an entrenchment, before the dawn of day, 
undiscovered by the English ships, which lay 
quite near to them. . As soon as the enemy 
saw this new work, they commenced a heavy 
cannonade upon it ; but this did not prevent 
the Americans from continuing their labour. 
As this hill overlooked Boston, General Gage 
thought it necessary to drive the Americans 
from it ; and for that purpose, he sent a de- 
tachment of about three thousand troops, com- 
manded by General Howe. Two American 





WASHINGTON. 


57 


generals, Warren and Pomeroy, joined their 
countrymen with as many more troops as made 
their number amount to fifteen hundred. The 
English advanced to attack the Americans on 
the 17th of June, and while they were doing 
so, their general gave orders that Charlestown 
should be set on fire ; it contained about five 
hundred houses, which were chiefly of wood ; 
— the flames spread rapidly, so that in a short 
time, the whole town formed one great blaze. 
The inhabitants of Boston and the surround- 
ing country were gazing on this awfully inte- 
resting scene, with anxious feelings for their 
countrymen on Breed’s hill. The English 
troops advanced to within a hundred yards of 
them, before the Americans fired ; and when 
they did so, the English fell back. By the ex- 
ertions of their officers, they were again led for- 
ward, but a second time were driven back. 
A third time they were led up, and assisted by 
the firing from the ships and floating batteries, 
they attacked the Americans in three different 
directions, and almost battered down their 
works of defence. They had endeavoured to 
increase their security by taking the rails from 
the fences, and putting them in two rows, at a 
short distance from each other, and then fill- 
ing the space between with hay. Their ammu- 
nition was soon spent, and finding that it 
would be vain to attempt longer to resist their 
powerful foes, they retreated from the hill, 
but claimed the victory, because they had lost 


58 


LIFE OF 


less than one half of the number which the 
British had lost in their attack. There is so 
much cause for sorrow connected with a vic- 
tory in battle, that to a reflecting mind, there 
is no gladness in the sound ; and English and 
Americans had reason to lament that sad dis- 
position of nature “whence come wars and 
fightings,” and which can only be restrained 
by that “ wisdom which descendeth from 
above, and is full of mercy, peaceable, gentle, 
and easy to be entreated.” 

Thus fully began that dreadful conflict which 
for years was to desolate one of the finest por- 
tions of the globe. By it thousands lost their 
lives, and tens of thousands were involved in 
misery. But the hand of oppression was be- 
ginning to bind down the liberties of a grow- 
ing nation — and through this mighty evil the 
great Ruler of events has brought forth the 
present prosperous state of our country. 

When Congress had determined on forming 
an army, they unanimously agreed to appoint 
Washington the commander in chief; — and 
the firmness of his temper, the dignity of his 
manners, and the confidence which was felt 
in his integrity and patriotism, made this 
choice by Congress satisfactory to all the peo- 
ple. When his appointment was made known 
to him, he modestly replied, “ Though I am 
truly sensible of the high honour done me in 
this appointment, yet I feel great distress, from 
a consciousness that my abilities and military 


WASHINGTON. 


59 


experience may not be equal to the extensive 
and important trust.” The peaceful enjoy- 
ments of his comfortable home were to be 
given up, but no selfish desire of ease ever 
caused him to shrink from the performance 
of a duty which was to benefit others. It was 
the wish of his countrymen that he should ac- 
cept this important part of the arduous work 
they expected to be engaged in ; and he did 
so, with an earnest desire not to disappoint 
their confidence, and an humble trust that he 
should have the blessing of God on his efforts 
to do well for his country. He would not 
have drawn his sword to gain the name of 
conqueror, and he was willing to bear that 
of a soldier only when by doing so, he could 
defend the helpless, or aid in obtaining justice 
for the oppressed. What he had been to his 
native province, in his youth, he was to be to 
his country, in the strength of his manhood. Be- 
ing a patriot in all his feelings, he informed Con- 
gress that he would not consent to receive any 
compensation for his services, but that he would 
keep an account of his expenses, which they 
might defray. He bade his family farewell, 
and set off for Cambridge, in Massachusetts, 
which was the place appointed as the head- 
quarters of the army. On the way he received 
from the people constant proofs of the satis- 
faction which his appointment gave. In Mas- 
sachusetts he was met with affectionate atten- 
tion, and was welcomed by the army with 


60 


LIFE OF 


joy. He commenced immediately the diffi- 
cult task of bringing the men into proper or- 
der. Their hands, which had been only used 
to felling trees, striking the anvil, guiding the 
plough, or to other peaceful and useful em- 
ployments, could not readily handle well a 
musket or a sword. They knew nothing of 
the discipline that was needful to make them 
useful as soldiers. They were fully resolved 
to defend their rights, but this spirit of freedom 
caused them to wish to do so in their own 
way, and as they were not willing to submit 
to rules and directions, the patience of their 
commander was therefore severely tried. He 
had naturally a very strong temper, but in his 
boyhood he had determined to watch and sub- 
due it. When any occurrence raised his an- 
ger, he resolutely endeavoured to restrain it, 
and thus obeyed the Scripture precept given 
to warm tetnpers, “ Be ye angry and sin not.” 
He knew that he could not command others 
so as to have their respeqfc, if by the indul- 
gence of passion he proved that he could not 
command himself. In addition to the difficul- 
ty of regulating the army, he had the anxiety 
of knowing that they were very scantily sup- 
plied with powder and arms, as there was 
very little powder in the country, and the in- 
habitants of the different provinces did not 
wish to part with what they thought they 
might want to use for their own particular de- 
fence. Washington was very anxious to con- 


WASHINGTON. 


61 


ceal this deficiency from the English gene- 
rals, and used every means possible to do so. 
His army was placed so as to blockade the 
English troops, who were stationed on Bun- 
ker’s hill, Roxbury Neck, and in Boston. 
Knowing as he did the difficulty there would 
be in getting supplies for his men, he wished 
to make an attempt to drive the enemy from 
Boston at once ; but his officers, on being 
consulted, were of the opinion that the attempt 
would not be successful, and the two armies 
continued in the same situation for several 
months. 

As it was known that the English were en- 
deavouring to engage the inhabitants of Cana- 
da, and the Indians, to assist them in invading 
the provinces from that part of the country. 
Congress sent troops there, who took posses- 
sion of several forts. Washington resolved to 
send a detachment from his army to Quebec, 
and he gave the command of it to Colonel Ar- 
nold. The orders given to him were, to pass 
through the country, not as an enemy to the 
inhabitants of Canada, but as friends, and to 
check with severity every attempt to injure 
them ; and to treat with respect their religious 
ceremonies: for, said Washington, “while 
Vwe are contending for our own liberty, we 
• should be very cautiotis of violating the rights 
of conscience in others, and should ever con- 
sider, with a true Christian spirit, that God 
alone is the judge of the hearts of men, and 


62 


LIFE OF 


to him only in this case are they answerable.” 
Arnold and his troops were thirty-two days 
passing through a frightful wilderness, with- 
out seeing a house or a human being ; they 
waded through swamps and toiled over moun- 
tains, and arrived at Quebec worn down with 
fatigue. Arnold expected to take Quebec by 
surprise, but information had been given of 
his approach, so that lie was disappointed. 
General Montgomery, who had taken Mon- 
treal from the English, marched to join Ar 
nold, and then endeavoured to prevail on the 
commander of Quebec to give it up without 
blood being shed ; but the officer he sent with 
a flag of truce was fired on, and he then deter- 
mined on attacking the town. The attack 
was bold but not successful, and in making it, 
the brave Montgomery lost his life. The 
blockade of Quebec was continued for some- 
time without effect, and, on hearing that an 
English fleet had arrived, the American offi- 
cers concluded that it would be vain to expect 
success, and gave up the siege. Several en- 
gagements convinced the Americans that their 
force was not sufficient to accomplish in Ca- 
nada what they had expected ; and the officers 
determined on retreating from it, before their 
men should be more reduced by unavailing 4 
sufferings. 

At the time of these occurrences in the 
north, the southern provinces were not quiet. 
The governor of Virginia, assisted by ships 


WASHINGTON. 


63 


of war, attempted to burn the town of Hamp- 
ton, but he was prevented by the bravery of 
the people. He then collected his force at 
Norfolk. An American regiment of regulars, 
and two hundred minute men, marched for 
the defence of that place ; they were attacked 
by the English, whom they soon forced to re- 
treat, with the loss of many of their number, 
though the Americans did not lose one man. 
The governor took refuge on board of a ves- 
sel ; and on the night of the first of January, 
1776, a heavy cannonade was commenced on 
the town from the ships, and some of the 
troops landed and set fire to the houses. As 
the 'Americans did not think that they could 
keep possession of Norfolk against the force 
of an English fleet, they made no efforts to 
extinguish the flames, but suffered them to 
rage until the town was consumed. After this 
the governor continued sailing up the rivers 
of Virginia for some time, burning houses and 
destroying plantations. A number of the in- 
habitants of the frontiers of the southern pro- 
vinces, were inclined to favour the English, 
and formed themselves into companies ; but 
they were met by the provincial parties, and 
obliged to fly in every direction. The gover- 
nor of North Carolina had gone aboard of a 
ship of war in the Cape Fear river. General 
Clinton, who was to command the English in 
the south, arrived in North Carolina, with a 
small force ; but he did not think it prudent 


64 


LIFE OF 


to use it there, and determined on going to 
Charleston, in South Carolina. This inten- 
tion was discovered, and all ranks of citizens 
began immediately to prepare for defence. A 
new fort, afterwards called Fort Moultrie, in 
honour of its commander, was quickly built 
on Sullivan’s Island, which is at the mouth 
of the harbour. In the beginning of June, 
the British fleet anchored off the harbour of 
Charleston. Some American troops arrived 
from Virginia and North Carolina, and they 
were all commanded by General Lee. The 
streets of the city were barricaded ; store- 
houses of great value were pulled down, and 
every possible means for defence were pre- 
pared. The English fleet was commanded by 
Sir Peter Parker, and consisted of two fifty- 
gun ships, four frigates, and four smaller armed 
vessels. On the 28th of June, they commenced 
firing on Fort Moultrie, at about 10 o’clock in 
the morning and continued to do so fbr three 
hours ; but the firing was returned from the 
fort with so much skill, that the ships were 
almost torn to pieces, and about 9 o’clock, 
with difficulty were moved off. The loss of 
the British in killed and wounded, exceeded 
two hundred; while that of the Americans 
was only ten killed and twenty-two wounded. 

Thus did a feeble force of 375 regulars, 
and a few militia, in a half-finished fort, crip- 
ple and drive off, with little loss to themselves, 
a powerful and well commanded fleet. Truly 


WASHINGTON. 


65 


they had cause to use the language of the de- 
vout Asa, and say, “ Lord, it is nothing with 
thee to help, whether with many, or with 
them that have no power.” A few days after- 
wards, all the English troops who had been 
landed, returned to the vessels, and the whole 
fleet sailed away for New York, and the state 
of South Carolina was, for that time, delivered 
from the ravages of a foreign army. 

This success, so providentially given the 
Americans in the south, encouraged them 
greatly, and cheered the anxious mind of 
Washington, when he was distressed by the 
unfavourable accounts from the north. His 
army had been very much changed during 
the winter; many of the men had returned 
to their homes, and new recruits had taken 
their places ; so that he was constantly obliged 
to bear the trial of patience in his endeavour 
to have a regular force. He was still of 
opinion, that an attempt to drive the enemy 
from Boston would be successful ; in writing 
to Congress on the subject, he said, “ I can- 
not help acknowledging, that I have many 
disagreeable sensations on account of my 
situation ; for to have the eyes of the whole 
continent fixed on me, with anxious expecta- 
tion of hearing of some great event, and to be 
restrained in every military operation, for 
want of the necessary means to carry it on, 
is not very pleasing ; especially as the means 
used to conceal my weakness from the enemy. 
f 2 


66 


LIFE OF 


conceal it also from our friends, and add to 
their wonder.” 

Towards the latter end of February, having 
received a fresh supply of powder, he re- 
solved on attempting to force General Howe 
from Boston, and commenced an attack early 
in March ; a considerable detachment of Amer- 
icans took possession of the heights of Dor- 
chester, and in one night, though the ground 
was frozen, raised works, which in a great 
degree covered them from the shot of the 
enemy. It was then necessary for the En- 
glish, either to drive the Americans from 
those heights, or to leave the town ; the for- 
mer was determined on, and troops were put 
on board of the ships to proceed down the 
bay for that purpose. They were not, how- 
ever, allowed by “ Him who ruleth the winds 
and the waves,” to succeed, for they were 
scattered by a violent storm, and entirely dis- 
abled from proceeding ; and before they could 
be ready again to make the attempt, the 
Americans had made their works of defence 
so strong, that it was thought useless to try to 
force them. In expectation that most of the 
troops would be engaged in this attack, General 
Washington had made preparations for attack- 
ing those that remained in Boston ; but this 
plan was disappointed by the English general 
determining on leaving it, when he saw the 
Dorchester heights could not be taken. When 
General Washington knew of the intentions 


WASHINGTON. 


67 


of General Howe, he thought it most proba- 
ble that he would go from Boston to New 
York, and he sent a large portion of his army 
there immediately. 

On the 17th of March, the English entered 
their ships, and soon the whole fleet sailed ; 
the rest of the American army then marched 
to New York. The recovery of Boston caused 
great joy. When Washington entered it, he 
was received by the inhabitants as their deli- 
verer from oppression; and in their public 
address to him, they expressed the wish, “ May 
you still go on, approved by Heaven, anc^ re- 
vered by all good men.” The fleet sailed to 
Halifax, and remained there until June, and 
then left it, and early in July landed the troops 
on Staten Island. 


CHAPTER III. 

1776 — 1777. 

When the war commenced, the Ameri- 
cans thought only of obtaining relief from 
die oppression of unjust laws ; but when 
ihey heard that the English had hired fo- 
reign troops to assist in subduing them, and 
had engaged the tomahawk of the Indian 
against them, they began to think ol- an 
entire separation from England; and of de- 

*' f 


68 


LIFE OF 


daring themselves to be an independent peo 
pie. A few bold ones, at first, spoke of this ; 
and then it was soon openly talked of through- 
out all the provinces. Several of the provincial 
assemblies gave an opinion in favour of it, and 
on the 7th of Juno, 1776, it was proposed in 
Congress by Richard Henry Lee, and second- 
ed by John Adams. The resolution was in 
these words : “ Resolved, that these United 
Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free 
and independent states ; and that all political 
connexion between them and the state of Great 
Britain is, and ought to be totally dissolved.” 
Congress, at that time, held their meetings in 
the State-House, at Philadelphia, and the room 
in which they sat has ever since been called 
“ Independence Hall.” 

After much serious deliberation, the thir- 
teen Colonies at length agreed, through their 
representatives, to the resolution, and it was 
adopted by Congress on the 2d of July. On 
that day, the Declaration of Independence was 
proposed by the committee who had been in 
structed to prepare it,* and, after a debate of 
three days, during which several amendments 

* The Declaration was written by Mr. Jefferson, after 
wards President of the United States. The motion to au 
thorize the Declaration was, as we have seen, seconded by 
Mr. John Adams, who also was afterwards President. Both 
of these eminent patriots died on the fourth of July , 1826, 
exactly half a cent ury from the day on which they put their 
names to the paper. Of the signers, one — the venerable 
Mr. Carroll — is still living (1832) being upwards of ninety 
years of age. 


% 


WASHINGTON. 


69 


were made, it was agreed to on the 4th of Ju- 
ly, and signed by every member then present, 
excepting one, who thought that it was too 
soon to take such a step. Among the amend- 
ments made by Congress to the original draft 
of the declaration, was the inserting of the 
words — “ With a firm reliance on the protec- 
tion of Divine Providence,” in the last sen- 
tence declaring that “ for the support of this 
declaration we mutually pledge to each other 
our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred hon- 
our.” Thus we see that this distinguished 
body of men were anxious to acknowledge in 
a document, which is the most important in 
the history of our country, that they were de- 
pendent on the blessing of God for success in 
their undertaking. This declaration was first 
written and signed on paper, but was after- 
wards copied on parchment, and signed again 
on the 2d of August. Several persons signed 
it then who were not members of Congress 
on the 4th of July, and some, being absent at 
the time, did not put their names to it until 
October. There are fifty-six signatures to the 
parchment copy, which is now kept in the 
public offices at Washington. So great is the 
estimation in which those persons are held 
who signed this paper, that an account of the 
life of each of them has been published, and 
the declaration has been often engraved in the 
most splendid manner. The yearly return of 
the important day on which it was signed, has 


70 


LIFE OF 


ever since been hailed with gladness. And so 
it should be ; but not with the riotous joy 
which disregards the laws of God and man. 
Temperate and harmless recreation should be 
mingled with grateful acknowledgments of the 
goodness of that all-powerful and all-merciful 
Being, who gave us such cause for gladness. 

No longer striving for the repeal of objec- 
tionable laws, but for their existence as a na- 
tion, the people were united and vigorous, and 
a new impulse was felt throughout the states, 
now no longer colonies. All men had now to 
take sides, either for or against their country, 
and the voice of the people was nearly one for 
liberty and independence. 

About the time at which Independence was 
declared, the brother of General Howe arrived 
at Staten Island, with a large fleet, and a num- 
ber of troops. General Washington had made 
every preparation in his power for defending 
New York ; but was soon convinced that he 
could not prevent the English ships from pass- 
ing up the Hudson river. While he was thus 
anxiously engaged, letters were sent from the 
commander of the fleet, addressed to the go- 
vernors under the king ; requesting them to 
make known to the people that he had autho- 
rity from the king to grant pardons to all those 
who would return to their duty ; and that 
every person who would aid in persuading 
them to do so, should be rewarded. General 
Washington sent these papers immediately to 


WASHINGTON. 


71 


Congress, who resolved to publish them. At 
the same time, General Howe sent an officer 
on shore, with a flag of truce, and a letter ad- 
dressed to “ George Washington, Esquire.” 
He refused to receive it, as he considered it 
a disrespect to his countrymen, who had given 
him the title of “Commander-in-chief” of 
their armies. Another letter was sent, direct- 
ed to George Washington, &c. &c. &c., and 
the officer who brought it said that the addi- 
tion of &c. &c. &c. meant every thing that 
ought to follow the name. General Washing- 
ton said they meant every thing, it was true, 
but they also might mean any thing ; and he 
should refuse to receive a letter on public bu- 
siness, if it was directed to him as a private 
person. The officer assured him that no dis- 
respect was intended, and that General Howe 
and his brother had been appointed by the 
king of England to “ settle the unhappy dis- 
pute which had arisen.” Washington told 
him that he had no power from Congress to say 
any thing on that subject; but, from what he 
could learn, it was his opinion that Gen. Howe 
and his brother were only to grant pardons, 
and “ those who had committed no fault, 
wanted no pardon : the Americans were only 
defending what they considered their just 
rights.” 

The English army consisted of about twen- 
ty-four thousand men, and was abundantly 
supplied with military stores, and a numerous 


12 


LIFE OF 


fleet was ready to aid it. The American ar- 
my, of about thirteen thousand men, for three 
different situations, was scantily furnished 
with arms ; and Washington, after giving an 
account of its state to Congress, added : 
“ These things are' melancholy, but neverthe- 
less true. I hope for better. Under every 
disadvantage, my utmost exertions shall be 
employed to bring about the great end we 
have in view. As far as I can judge, from the 
apparent dispositions of my troops, I shall 
have their support. The superiority of the 
enemy, and the expected attack, do not seem 
to have affected their spirits.” A part of the 
army was on Long Island, the rest on York 
and Governor’s Islands, and Paules-hook 
Washington earnestly endeavoured to encour 
age his troops ; he said, “ the time is per 
haps near at hand, which will probably deter 
mine whether Americans are to be freemen 
The fate of unknown millions will depend 
under God, on the courage and conduct of this 
army. Let us rely on the goodness of our 
cause, and the aid of the Supreme Being, in 
whose hands victory is, to animate and en- 
courage us to great and noble actions.” 

General Howe landed his troops on Long 
Island on the 22d July, and the Americans 
prepared for being attacked ; a detachment of 
them, which had been stationed to give notice 
of the approach of the enemy, was surrounded 
and seized ; and this gave an opportunity to 


WASHINGTON. 


73 


the English of advancing by a way that was 
very favourable for their attack, — which was 
made with so large a force, and in so many 
different directions, that it was not in the 
power of the Americans to resist with success, 
though they did so with bravery. General 
Washington passed over to Brooklyn, and 
saw, with deep sorrow, the destruction of his 
troops. He had no power to aid them in any 
other way than by* his own exertions ; for he 
saw, that if he brought over the rest of his 
troops from New York, the superior force of 
the enemy would overpower them all, and 
thus the fate of his country be at once decided. 
The English encamped in front of the remain- 
ing Americans, and Washington determined 
on endeavouring to save them by withdrawing 
them from Long Island. He formed his plan, 
and when the night of the twenty-eighth 
came, under his directions, and assisted by 
his exertions, all the troops and military 
stores, with a great part of the provisions, 
and all the artillery, were carried over to 
New York in safety. A kind Providence fa- 
voured the Americans with a night so dark, 
and a morning so foggy, that though their 
enemies were within a few hundred yards of 
them, they did not know of the movement 
they were making, until they were beyond the 
reach of their guns. From the commencement 
of the action, on the morning of the 27th of 
July, until the troops had crossed safely, on 


74 


LIFE OF 


the 29th, their anxious commander had not 
closed his eyes; and was almost all the time 
on horseback, directing and aiding them. He 
did not think of his own preservation until the 
last boat was leaving the shore, and he then 
placed himself in it, with a sad heart. 

This event discouraged the American army 
so much, that, as General Washington wrote 
to Congress, their situation was “truly dis- 
tressing,” and he had to suffer the pain of 
seeing whole regiments return in despair to 
their homes. 

The first use which General Howe made 
of his success, was to send a message to Phi- 
ladelphia, that though he could not treat with 
Congress as a body, he had full power to set- 
tle the controversy upon terms that would be 
very favourable ; and that he would meet any 
of the members in their private character, at 
any place they would appoint. Congress in- 
formed him, that being the representatives of a 
free and independent people, they could not 
send any of their members to speak with him 
in their private character ; but that, being de- 
sirous of peace, they would send a committee 
to understand from him what offers he was 
permitted to make. Three members, Benja- 
min Franklin, John Adams, and Edward Rut- 
ledge, were appointed by Congress to visit 
Staten Island, where they were very civilly 
received by the English commander, but as 
any proposal he had to make was only on 


WASHINGTON. 


•75 

condition of the colonies returning to obedi- 
ence, which was not listened to, the matter 
dropped here. 

From the movements of the English army 
and fleet, General Washington found that it 
was their intention to surround New York, 
and force him into a battle. The depressed 
state of his army convinced him that this 
would be destructive to his troops, and he 
thought it would be right to withdraw them 
from New York. In writing to Congress he 
said, “ On every side there is a choice of dif- 
ficulties. * * On our part the war should be 
defensive ; we should, on all occasions, avoid 
a general action ; nor put anything to the risk, 
unless compelled by necessity, into which we 
ought never to be drawn.” 

On consulting together, the officers of the 
army agreed, that it was best to give up New 
York, and Washington employed himself ac- 
tively in removing the military stores to a 
place of safety. He had urged the inhabitants to 
remove the women and children from it when 
the enemy first appeared on Staten Island. 

When the American troops were withdrawn 
from New York, they were stationed at Kings- 
bridge, and the enemy took possession of the 
city on the 15th September. The situation 
of the American army was then very distress- 
ing to Washington ; the time for which many 
of the soldiers had agreed to serve was almost 
spent, and he had but a faint expectation that 


?6 


LIFE OF 


others would be soon engaged in their places : 
he wrote to Congress on the subject, urging 
them to make immediate endeavours to keep 
up the army. He commenced his letter in 
words which show his anxiety and modest 
faithfulness : “ From the hours allotted to 
sleep, I will borrow a few moments to con- 
vey my thoughts on sundry important mat- 
ters to Congress. I shall offer them with that 
sincerity which ought to characterize a man 
of candour, and with the freedom which may 
be used in giving useful information, without 
incurring the imputation of presumption.’ * 
On receiving this long and very serious letter, 
Congress resolved to attend to the counsel 
which it contained, and appointed committees 
to make exertions for raising more troops. 

General Howe wished to prevent the Ame- 
rican army having intercourse with the New 
England states, and he marched his troops 
with an intention to surround the principal 
division of the army. But General Washing- 
ton was too watchful to permit him to suc- 
ceed in doing so. Several actions were fought 
by small detachments from each army, but he 
carefully avoided a general battle ; except in 
one instance, when he was favourably situated 
on the hills, near the White Plains, in the 
state of New York ; the English General de- 
clined it then, and changed his plans, and re- 
tired slowly down the North river, to enter 
New Jersey. When Washington discovered 


WASHINGTON. 


77 


his intention, he wrote to the governor of that 
state, to inform him of it, and to General 
Green, who was placed there with some Ame- 
rican troops ; and he requested them to make 
every preparation possible for defence. He 
then placed all the troops that he could spare 
in the forts of the Highlands, in the state of 
New York; and passed over into New Jer- 
sey with his little army, in the middle of No- 
vember. Cornwallis, an English general', fol- 
lowed with a large force, and Washington 
moved on to New Brunswick, where he 
stopped. There he had the mortification of 
seeing his army made still less, by the depar- 
ture of many of the soldiers whose time had 
expired. He again wrote to the governor for 
some aid, but he had not the power to give it. 
He wrote urgently to General Lee, (who 
commanded the eastern troops,) to join him 
as quickly as possible. This sad situation 
brought into exercise all his wisdom and firm- 
ness. His army was reduced to about three 
thousand men ; and they were scantily arm- 
ed, poorly clad, and many of them barefooted. 
The army that pressed after them was more 
than double their number, well armed, well 
clad and fed, and in high spirits. 

The contrast between the splendid appear- 
ance of the English, and the sad and ragged 
condition of the Americans, seemed to make 
the triumph of the former certain. 

Afflicted, but not dismayed, by the cheer- 
o 2 


78 


LIFE OF 


lessness of his prospects, Washington did not 
cease for a moment to act with animation, and 
encouraged his few troops with expressions 
of confidence that they should not be deliver- 
ed into the hands of their enemies. He re- 
mained at New Brunswick until they were in 
sight, and then moved on towards the Dela- 
ware river, and soon succeeded in having the 
military stores and scanty baggage of his ar- 
my conveyed across, and the men who were 
sick sent to Philadelphia. 

The citizens determined to give all the aid 
in their power to Washington, and fifteen 
hundred of them marched immediately to join 
him. He had sent twelve hundred men back 
to Princeton, with the hope that by thus ap- 
pearing to advance towards the enemy, he 
might delay them, and give some encourage- 
ment to the inhabitants of New Jersey. When 
the troops from Philadelphia joined him, he 
marched towards Princetbife but heard that 
Cornwallis had received a large addition to 
his troops, and was advancing by differ- 
ent roads to surround him. Again he was 
obliged to retreat, and crossed the Delaware. 
He secured all the boats, and broke down the 
bridges on the roads along the Jersey shore, 
and placed his army in such a manner as to 
guard, as well as possible, all the fording 
places. 

As the last of the Americans crossed the 
river, the English army appeared. The main 


WASHINGTON. 


79 


part of it was at Trenton, and detachments 
above and below, so as to make it quite uncer- 
tain where they intended to attempt crossing 
the river. Washington sent ‘officers to Phila- 
delphia, with directions to form lines of de- 
fence there, and to endeavour to secure the 
military stores. He gave particular orders on 
the 8th of December, to all the officers of his 
little army, to enable them to know how to 
act, in case the enemy attempted to cross the 
river. One of his officers said, with despon- 
dency, “ How far must we go on retreating ?” 
“To Virginia,” said Washington; “and, if 
followed there, over the Alleghany Mountains, 
and try|what we can do there.” 

General Lee advanced slowly with his"' 
troops, and imprudently slept at a distance of 
three miles from his army, in a farm house, at 
about twenty miles from the enemy. Inform- 
ation of this was given, and an English officer 
sent a company well mounted, who reached 
the farm house and surrounded it before Gen- 
eral Lee had left it ; he was carried to the 
English army, and considered as a deserter 
from the British service. General Sullivan, 
the next in command to Lee, immediately 
hastened the march of the troops, and soon 
joined General Washington. 

All the attempts of the English to get boats 
to cross the river failed, and their general de- 
termined to place them in quarters for the win- 
ter, which had commenced. Some were 


LIFE OF 


80 

placed in Princeton, and the rest at the prin- 
cipal towns of that part of New Jersey. 

Washington thought that it was not proba- 
ble Cornwallis would remain in winter shelter 
longer than until the ice should be strong 
enough for his troops to cross it, and he em- 
ployed his anxious and active mind in reflect- 
ing on some plan for stopping the success of 
the foes of his country. While they were 
comfortably housed, the Americans were ex- 
posed to the wintry blasts ; for not many 
could be sheltered in farm houses near enough 
to each other ; and those who could not, made 
the frozen ground their bed and their knap- 
sacks their pillows. No doubt many who thus 
lay, offered fervent and humble prayers to 
God, who suits his mercies to the necessities 
of all who honour him ; and beneath the care 
which he has promised to those who put their 
trust in him, they slept soundly, though they 
were unsheltered. 

When General Washington reflected on the 
dispersed situation of the English troops, he 
said, “ Now is the time to clip their wings, 
when they are so spread.” For this purpose 
he formed a bold plan. He separated his ar- 
my into three divisions. One, consisting of 
about two thousand four hundred men, com- 
manded by himself, was to cross the Dela- 
ware, at M’Konky’s Ferry, about nine miles 
above Trenton, and then to march down in 
two divisions ; one taking the river road, and 


WASHINGTON. 


81 


the other the Pennington road, both of which 
led into the town ; the one at the west end, 
and the other towards the north. The second 
division of the army, commanded by General 
Irvine, was to cross at Trenton Ferry, and 
secure the bridge below the town, so as to 
prevent the enemy from escaping by that way. 
The third, commanded by General Cadwala- 
der, was to cross at Bristol, and make an at- 
tack on the troops posted at Burlington. 

Christmas night was appointed for the dif- 
ferent divisions to cross the river. As the 
night approached, a driving sleet fell, and the 
cold became severe. Washington, with the 
division which he commanded, was the greater < 
part of the night struggling amidst the ice, 
which was driven in fearful wildness ; rain 
and snow fell in a mingled shower, and it was 
four o’clock, on the morning of the 26th, be- 
fore they succeeded in reaching the New Jer- 
sey shore. One division then marched, as 
had been planned, by the river road, and the 
other by the Pennington road. Washington 
arrived at Trenton exactly at eight o’clock, 
and drove in the outguards of the enemy, and 
in three minutes he heard the other division 
doing the same. 

Colonel Rawle, the English commander, 
paraded his troops .to meet the Americans, but 
he was soon mortally wounded, and his 
troops then attempted to move off. Wash- 
ington sent a detachment to meet them as they 


82 


LIFE OF 


were retreating, and the enemy finding them- 
selves surrounded, laid down their arms. 

The divisions of the American army which 
were commanded by Generals Irvine and 
Cadwalader, had not been able to cross the ri- 
ver amid the driving ice ; and as that part of 
the plan which they were to perform failed, 
Washington concluded it would not be pru- 
dent to remain with his small force where he 
should probably be soon attacked by the col- 
lected force of his enemies ; he therefore re- 
crossed the Delaware with his prisoners, and 
military stores that he had taken. One thou- 
sand was the number of the prisoners. Two 
American soldiers had been killed, and two or 
IK three wounded, and one officer. 

This bold and successful attack occasioned 
great astonishment to the English army, as 
they had believed the Americans to.be in a 
state too feeble to attempt resistance, even 
when it should suit their enemies to leave, 
their comfortable quarters to attack them. 

Cornwallis had gone to New York, but he 
returned immediately to New Jersey, with 
more troops, to regain the ground which had 
been thus unexpectedly taken from him. The 
officer who commanded at Burlington, march- 
ed his troops to Princeton, and the division 
of the American army which was opposite, 
crossed over and took possession of Burling- 
ton. 

* Washington resolved not to remain idle, 


WASHINGTON. 


83 


and he passed again over to Trenton, to en- 
deavour to recover at least a part of New Jer- 
sey. The English collected in full force at 
Princeton, and formed there some works of 
defence. Washington collected all his troops 
together at Trenton, and the next day the En- 
glish army approached it. He then crossed 
the Assumpinck creek, which runs through 
the town, and drew up his army beside it. 
The enemy attempted to cross it, but were 
prevented, and they halted and kindled their 
night fires. 

The situation of Washington was a very 
dangerous one. If he remained as he was, he 
was almost sure of being attacked, at the 
dawn of day, by a force far superior to his 
own ; and he thought that the destruction of 
his little army must be the consequence. To 
pass the Delaware was almost impossible, 
from the state it was in, with masses of drift- 
ing ice. Wisdom to plan, and strength to act, 
were given to him by the mighty God of 
armies. 

The night fires of the English burned 
brightly, and Washington directed his troops 
to light their fires along the edge of the creek. 
The bright close blaze became as a screening 
cloud between their enemies and them, while 
it was as a pillar of fire to light them in the 
silent preparations which their commander 
directed them to make for moving away. 

That important night was particularly 


84 


LIFE OF 


marked by the favour of Divine Providence ; 
and in after years, many a pious father, seated 
in his comfortable home, and surrounded by 
the children for whose rights he had that 
night been struggling, delighted, with devout 
thankfulness, to tell them, how the clouds 
and the winds were commanded by their 
great Ruler, to aid a people struggling for 
their liberty. 

Several days of soft weather had made the 
roads very deep ; a light rain had been falling, 
but suddenly the clouds were driven off by a 
strong west wind, which was so cold that 
the roads were frozen by it, and became like 
a pavement, over which Washington and his 
little army moved in silence, towards Prince- 
ton, and arrived within a short distance of it, 
early in the morning. 

Three British regiments had encamped at 
Princeton the preceding night. A small party, 
at the distance of more than a mile, discovered 
the arms of the Americans glittering in the 
beams of the rising sun ; they immediately 
returned to their qfunp, gave the alarm, and 
prevented a complete surprise. The British 
advanced towards the Americans, and attacked 
the militia, who were in front ; they gave way, 
and General Mercer, a very valuable officer 
from Virginia, was killed while he was en- 
deavouring to rally the broken troops. Wash- 
ington feeling assured that a defeat then would 
be ruinous to the interest of his country* rode 


WASHINGTON. 


85 


forward with speed, placed himself between 
the enemy and his own troops, and by his 
commands and example restored them to or- 
der. He was between the firek of the two 
armies, but the protecting shield of his Crea- 
tor was again on every side, to preserve him 
from the weapons of destruction. He entered 
Princeton, and after a short action, took pos- 
session of it, and secured three hundred pri- 
soners. A. part of the British troops took 
refuge in the College, but were soon forced to 
surrender by the fire of the Americans. ' 

After the action, a militia officer, (who 
never turned away from the complaints of a 
suffering fellow-being, whether friend or foe,) 
in passing where some dead bodies were 
stretched, heard a moan; he stopped to listen, 
and in a few moments discovered the wounded 
sufferer who uttered it. He raised him ten- 
derly in his arms, and asked if he could re- 
lieve him ; the wounded man, faintly said, 
“ No, it is too late,” and then made an effort 
to speak his own name, and that of an English 
officer, and added, “ Ta % my watch, and 
send it to him ; take my razor from my knap- 
sack, and keep it, as the gift of a grateful, 
dying man.” His eyes closed in death, and 
his request was faithfully performed. His gift 
was kept with care, and in after days, shown 
by its owner, with a satisfactory recollection 
of the confidence of a dying enemy. 

The same officer, in writing to his family 
H 


80 


LIFE OF 


an account of the battle at Princeton, said, 
“ I would wish to say a few words respecting 
the actions of that truly great man, General 
Washington, but it is notin my power to con- 
vey any just ideas of him. I shall never for- 
get what I felt when I saw him brave all the 
dangers of the field, his important life hang- 
ing as it were by a single hair, with a thou- 
sand deaths flying around him. I thought 
not of myself. He is surely Heaven’s pecu- 
liar care.” 

The British troops at Trenton were under 
arms, and about to attack the Americans by 
the light of the dawn ; but when it came, they 
discovered that the whole force, with their 
baggage and stores, had withdrawn ; and they 
soon heard the sound of their cannon at 
Princeton, which, though in the midst of win- 
ter, they supposed to be thunder. 

Again was Washington surrounded with 
perplexing perils. His wearied troops had 
been one night, and some of them two, with- 
out sleep. The march had been fatiguing 
and painful to the, ^soldiers, whose bare feet 
left traces of blood to mark their path, and 
the cold was piercing to those who were 
thinly clad. Fearing an attack in this condi- 
tion from the English army, which was so 
much larger, and not wearied by fatiguing 
marches and loss of rest, he gave up his plan 
of going to New-Brunswick; and breaking 
down all the bridges over the creeks between 


WASHINGTON. 


87 

that place and Princeton, he moved to Pluck- 
emin, where his troops rested. Cornwallis, 
alarmed by the events at Trenton and Prince- 
ton, marched to New-Brunswick, and began 
to move his military stores to a place of 
greater safety. 

The suffering state of the Americans from 
want of tents, clothes, and blankets, induced 
their commander to determine on putting them 
under shelter for the rest of the winter ; and 
he marched for this purpose to Morristown. 

The ranks of the American army had often 
been thinned by that dreadful disease, the 
small pox. The blessing of vaccination was 
not then known ; and inoculation had seldom 
been practised in this country. General W ash- 
ington formed the bold, but judicious resolu- 
tion, of having every officer and soldier who 
had not had the disease, inoculated. This 
was done very successfully, and the troops 
being undisturbed during the progress of the 
complaint, recovered under the care of Him 
who healeth all our diseases. 

The unexpected and successful attacks 
made at Trenton and Princeton, by an army 
that was thought to be conquered, saved Phi- 
ladelphia for that winter ; and revived the 
spirits of the Americans so much, that the 
difficulty of raising troops for the next season, 
was lessened in all the states. 

In compliance with the advice of Wash- 
ington, Congress had resolved to enlist sol- 


88 


LIFE OF 


diers who would consent to serve while the 
war continued. This was very satisfactory 
to him ; as he had suffered much from the 
short enlistments, by which his army had 
often been reduced when he most needed a 
strong force. When the American army had 
retreated through New-Jersey, the inhabitants 
were so sure of its destruction, that they 
thought it would be useless to make any at- 
tempt to defend themselves ; but after the suc- 
cessful engagements at Trenton and Prince- 
ton, they were so cheered, that they collected 
in large companies, and the militia became 
very active in assisting to confine the English 
to Amboy and New-Brunswick, where they 
were stationed when Washington led his army 
to Morristown. 

Through this period of universal depression, 
Congress had acted with firmness, and an un- 
changed resolution to trust the event of the 
contest to Divine Providence, and adhere to 
the Independence they had declared. Sup- 
posing that the enemy would advance to Phi- 
ladelphia, they removed to Baltimore, and 
made efforts to encourage their countrymen, 
and lead them to persist in what seemed to be 
an almost hopeless cause. They advised each 
state to appoint a day of humiliation and 
prayer, to implore God to forgive their sins 
as a people, and assist them by his favour in 
their day of trouble. And they soon had 
reason to praise him for giving them cause to 


WASHINGTON. 


89 


feel, that “ though cast down,” they were 
“ not forsaken.” During that season of deep- 
est gloom which had overspread the United 
States, when the hearts of all were tried, he 
who bore the greatest responsibility, felt most 
keenly for the fate of his country. The 
late Governor Brooks, of Massachusetts, then 
an Aid to Washington, came to him from a 
tour of duty, in his own state. He found the 
General deeply affected, and as he talked of 
the condition of his troops, and the wrongs of 
his country, he shed tears of grief. “ Sir,” 
said he, “ my only hope is in God. Go back 
to Massachusetts, and do what you can to 
raise men and money.” Thus felt and spoke 
the man, whom nations admire, and who was 
sensible that there is a God in heaven, who 
rules not there alone, but also among the 
children of men.’ His confidence was not in 
vain. From the midst of darkness came a 
light, that cheered the hearts of his country- 
men, and the’ drooping spirits of the nation 
were revived. 

While the Americans were in Morristown, 
their number was so small, that it was diffi- 
cult for Washington to keep up the appearance 
of an army ; but he sent out small detach- 
ments to show themselves in different direc- 
tions ; and with the assistance of the New 
Jersey militia, succeeded in keeping the ene- 
my from again overspreading the country. 
As the spring advanced, and new troops were 


90 


LIFE OF 


raised, there was a difficulty in assembling 
them as the commander-in-chief wished; for 
the English had possession of the ocean, and 
so could attack any state in the union ; and 
each one desired to be defended. This could 
not be done, without separating the troops 
into small divisions, and placing them distant 
from each other. Washington possessed that 
solid judgment which makes the best use of 
small means ; and he determined to prepare 
in the surest manner that could be effected 
for defending the eastern states, the highlands 
of New York, where it was very important to 
preserve the forts, and Philadelphia, which 
seemed to be the object of Cornwallis. When 
he had placed troops for this purpose, he 
formed his own camp at Middlebrook, in 
New Jersey, with not quite six thousand men. 

Early in June, the English army was in- 
creased by troops from New York, and the 
commander moved them in different directions, 
for the purpose of drawing Washington from 
his camp to a battle ; but he was too wise to 
be led into danger, which would have been 
almost certain destruction to his small army. 
He continued watching the movements of the 
enemy with anxiety. Sometimes they ap- 
peared as if intending to go to the north, and 
then moved towards the south. Washington 
kept his troops posted on the heights, in front 
of his camp, always ready in case of an at- 
tack. He wrote to General Arnold his opin- 


WASHINGTON. 


01 


ion, that it was the intention of the enemy to 
destroy his army, and get possession of Phi- 
ladelphia, but that he would endeavour to 
prevent the first part of the plan being suc- 
cessful ; and if they moved towards Phila- 
delphia, he would be close after them to do 
every thing in his power to delay them. 

The English commander, finding that he 
could not draw Washington from his camp, 
determined on removing to New Jersey, and 
taking them on board of the fleet to the Chesa- 
peake or Delaware. Washington took advan- 
tage of this, and moved his army for the pur- 
pose of following the enemy cautiously. They 
had passed over to Staten Island, but their 
commander suddenly resolved on returning to 
endeavour to get possession of the situation 
Washington had left, who immediately moved 
back, and prevented the success of this plan. 
The whole English army then crossed to Sta- 
ten Island, and entered the fleet. 

At that time, an English general named 
Prescot, commanded troops on Rhode Island ; 
a militia officer, named Barton, with a small 
party, passed ten miles by water without 
being observed by the ships of war ; and then 
landed within a mile of the place where they 
knew General Prescot slept. They quietly 
seized the guards, and took the general from 
his bed, and conveyed him in safety to their 
own quarters. The success of this bold at- 
tempt gave great joy ; because it was expected 


92 


LIFE OF 


that the English would consent to give up 
General Lee for General Prescot. 

On receiving an account that the English 
fleet had sailed from New York, the American 
army was moved towards Philadelphia. 

The English had a large force at Quebec, 
commanded by General Burgoyne. Sir Wil- 
liam Howe wrote to him, that though he 
seemed to be moving towards the south, it 
was his intention to turn towards Boston, 
which he meant to attack, assisted by Bur- 
goyne’s troops. This letter was given to Gen. 
Putnam, by a man who said he had been di- 
rected to tak.e it to Quebec. Putnam sent it 
immediately to General Washington. When 
he read the letter, he said he was certain it 
was written with the intention that it should 
fall into his hands to deceive him ; and it con- 
vinced him that the enemy would soon be near 
to Philadelphia ; but knowing that the Ame- 
rican army in the north was a feeble one, he 
proved the patriotism of his feelings by lessen- 
ing his own force to assist them. The real 
advantage of his countrymen, and not the ac- 
quirement of fame for himself, was the mo- 
tive which always ruled his actions as an offi- 
cer. 

He called out the militia of Maryland, 
Pennsylvania, and the northern part of Virgi- 
nia, and then marched with his own troops 
towards the head of Elk river, in Maryland. 

A militia officer, in writing to his family an 


WASHINGTON. 


93 


account of the appearance of the army as it 
passed through Philadelphia, said, “As Wash- 
ington, the most dignified and respectable of 
mortals, marching at the head of the American 
army, passed, the tories hid their heads and 
trembled, whilst the friends of freedom appear- 
ed on each side of the streets, and bowed with 
gratitude and respect to the great man ; and 
were I to judge of his feelings, I think he 
would not have exchanged his situation for 
all that kings in their profusion could be- 
stow.” 

As Washington advanced towards Elk ri- 
ver, he heard that the enemy were landing, 
whose whole force consisted of about eighteen 
thousand men, in good health, high spirits, and 
well trained. Washington’s force was about 
eleven thousand, and not all of these were 
supplied with arms. 

He was desirous to place his army in the 
most favourable situation for meeting their 
powerful foes, and he moved to the Brandy- 
wine Creek, in the State of Delaware, and took 
possession of the high . grounds, extending 
southward from Chad’s Ford. He knew that 
Philadelphia could not be saved without a suc- 
cessful battle; and that Congress, and the 
people generally, expected that he would not 
give it up without an attempt to prevent the 
enemy from possessing it. In making his pre- 
parations for an attack, he was deceived by a 
false account of the number of the enemy, and 


LIFE OF 


94 

of their movements as they were advancing, 
and was therefore disappointed in the most 
important part of the plan he had formed for 
meeting them. When they drew near, he 
used great efforts to encourage his troops, and 
on the 11th of September an action com- 
menced, which was very severe. Sir William 
Howe was successful in driving the Ameri- 
cans from the ground, but they were not too 
much discouraged to risk another action for 
the safety of Philadelphia. 

Washington allowed them one day for rest, 
and then marched on the Lancaster road, to a 
spot near the Warren Tavern, about twenty- 
three miles from Philadelphia. In a few hours 
he heard that the enemy were approaching, 
and he prepared to meet them. The dreadful 
work of destruction was commencing, when a 
powerful rain began to fall, and became so 
violent that the arms of the Americans were 
soon unfit for use ; a retreat was absolutely 
necessary, and as Washington was convinced 
that his army was not in a state to gain suc- 
cess in an action, he determined to avoid be- 
ing attacked. He directed that all the military 
stores in the city should be removed to a place 
of safety, so that very little public property 
might fall into the hands of the enemy, who, 
headed by Cornwallis, entered Philadelphia 
on the 26th of September. 

Congress separated on the 18th Septem- 
ber, and met at Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, 


WASHINGTON. 


95 


on the 27th. Washington took a position be- 
yond Germantown, that he might attack the 
British troops posted at that village. On the 
30th October an assault was made, but a heavy 
fog and darkness caused mistakes in the 
movements of the troops, and a skilful retreat 
was all that the commander could effect, and 
for his management of this, he received the 
thanks of Congress. The chief point of con- 
test was at Chew’s house, in the upper part 
of Germantown, which still bears the marks 
of the battle. 

The news of this attack on the enemy, al- 
though unsuccessful, made a great impression 
in our favour in Europe, and military men be- 
gan to believe that such skill and valour would 
be finally successful. The loss of Ameri- 
can soldiers and officers was much greater 
than that of the British, but they lost also 
some valuable officers. One of these was at- 
tended in a house in Germantown, by a fe- 
male, who endeavoured to give some relief to 
his sufferings ; but he felt that all human aid 
was vain, and said, “ Woman pray for me .” 
Thus in that hour, when the soul feels what 
it truly is, and that soon it must be in the pre- 
sence of its holy Creator and just Judge, the 
duty and the value of prayer is owned ; and on 
almost every bed of death is fulfilled the words 
of Scripture, “ 0 Thou that hearest prayer, 
unto Thee shall all flesh come.” 

Soon after the battle of Germantown, Sir 


96 


LIFE OF 


William Howe drew all his troops into Phila- 
delphia, to employ them in removing the ob- 
structions which had been placed in the De- 
laware river, to prevent his ships from pass- 
ing up to the city. Washington had placed 
troops in Fort Mifflin, on Mud Island, and in 
a redoubt a few miles from Philadelphia, at 
Red Bank* a high bluff, so called from the co- 
lour of the sand on it. Count Donop, a Ger- 
man officer, was sent with a detachment of 
Hessians of about twelve hundred men, to at- 
tack the fort at Red Bank, which was com- 
manded by Colonel Greene. On the evening 
of the 22d of October, Donop appeared before 
the fort ; Greene, with his garrison of five 
hundred men, received him bravely ; and the 
assault and defence were both spirited and ob- 
stinate. Donop was killed, and the second in 
command, Colonel Wingerode, fell at the 
same time ; the oldest remaining officer then 
drew off his troops, and returned to Philadel- 
phia. The loss of the assailants was four 
hundred, and of the defenders, thirty-two kill- 
ed and wounded. A continued struggle was 
kept up for more than six weeks, to prevent 
the English in Philadelphia having free com- 
munication with their fleet, but at length they 
succeeded. 

Several officers had been wounded at the 
battle of Brandywine, and among these was 
the marquis Lafayette. This generous stran- 
ger was early called to bleed in that cause for 


WASHINGTON. 


97 


which he had ventured his all. He had left 
France, his native land, and come to America, 
to risk his life and spend his fortune in the 
cause of liberty. He was only nineteen years 
of age, when he gave up a gay scene of youth- 
ful pleasures to enter on one of dangerous 
toils. The American commissioners who 
were in France honestly told him of the de- 
pressed state of the American army, and of 
the sufferings that he would be exposed to. 
This did not change, but fixed his generous in- 
tention, and he hastened his preparations to 
cross the ocean, and make known to Congress 
his purpose, and arrived in Charleston early 
in the year 1777. They welcomed with re- 
spect this brave friend of their country,, and 
gave him the commission of a major-general 
in their army; a title which he has ever since 
preferred to that of marquis. His disinterested 
conduct, and amiable character, made Wash- 
ington his friend ; and he could not know and 
be near to Washington without becoming at- 
tached to him. Their friendship was sincere, 
warm, and steady. 

Thus, in his first visit to our country, La- 
fayette was welcomed as a friend to the cause 
of liberty ; and his determination to share in 
the toils and dangers of the Americans, in 
their struggle to obtain it, was as lasting as it 
was ardent, and not like the bright morning 
cloud which soon passes away. And when, 
in August of the year 1824, he again visited 


98 


LIFE OF 


oui country, to behold the prosperity with 
which the God of nations has blessed it, the 
joyful and grateful manner in which he was 
received throughout the United States, proved 
that Americans had not forgotten his generous 
services. Old soldiers grasped his friendly 
hand with a welcome of affectionate gladness ; 
children, in thousands, pressed around him to 
share the kind notice of his eye ; and all the 
people were of one mind in desiring to show 
him some mark of grateful respect. In ac- 
cordance with this general feeling, Congress 
bestowed on him a tract of land of several 
thousand acres, and a large sum of money. 
They invited him to make the United Stgtes 
his home, but his own country was still under 
an oppressive government, and he returned to 
promote the cause of liberty there. His con- 
duct in the revolution of 1830, when the king 
was obliged to leave the throne and the coun- 
try, greatly contributed to restrain the violence 
of the people. 


CHAPTER IV. 

1777. 

While Washington kept up the contest in 
the middle states, very interesting events were 
passing in the northern states. 

A plan had been formed by the British go- 


M^SHINGTOX. 


99 

vernment, for sending an army to pass from 
Canada to the Hudson river, by the way of 
the lakes, and to take possession of all the 
American forts. General Burgoyne had the 
command of this army, and he engaged seve- 
ral Indian warriors, who thirsted for blood and 
plunder, to join him. A fleet was ready on 
the lakes to assist him. When these prepara- 
tions were known, the people were filled with 
terror ; the fear of the tomahawk and scalp- 
ing-knife added greatly to their dread of the 
power of the English. General Burgoyne 
made a war-speech to his ferocious allies, the 
Indians ; they listened attentively, but his 
charge to refrain from cruelty was not remem- 
bered, when they had the power to indulge 
their natural dispositions. 

Ticonderoga was commanded by General 
St. C}air. On the 1st of July Burgoyne pre- 
pared to attack the fort, and his force was so 
powerful and so well arranged that General 
St. Clair was convinced that resistance would 
ensure the destruction of all his troops, and 
lie determined on withdrawing secretly. Or- 
ders were given to march out quietly, and set 
nothing on fire; but this order was not obeyed, 
and a house was soon in flames, which served 
as a signal to the enemy, who immediately 
entered the fort, and fired on the retreating 
troops, and then followed them and attacked 
them with so much ardour, that they were in 
a short time reduced to a very small number. 


100 


LIFE OF 


General Schuyler had been advancing from 
Stillwater with troops, when he heard of the 
retreat of St. Clair, and he th£n used great ef- 
forts to obtain a larger force, that he might 
stop the progress of the enemy. St. Clair 
continued retreating, closely pursued, until at 
length he joined General Schuyler, who had 
returned with his troops to Stillwater. 

When General Washington heard the sad 
news from the north, he wrote to General 
Schuyler, “ This stroke is indeed severe ; 
but, notwithstanding things at present wear a 
dark and gloomy aspect, I hope a spirited op- 
position will check the progress of General 
Burgoyne’s arms, and that the confidence de- 
rived from success will hurry him into mea- 
sures that will in their consequences be fa- 
vourable to us. We should never despair. 
Our situation has been unpromising, and has 
changed for the better. So, I trust, it will 
again. If new difficulties arise, we must only 
put forth new exertions.” 

After taking Ticonderoga, Burgoyne sent a 
part of his army up the lake, to Skeensbo- 
rough, where they destroyed the American 
flotilla, and a considerable quantity of military 
stores. 

The success of Burgoyne had the effect 
which Washington had hoped for. He was 
so confident of conquering by his well ordered 
troops, that he determined on dividing his 
army, and sending detachments in different di- 


WASHINGTON. 


101 


rections, that he might overrun a larger por- 
tion of the country at once. He sent a detach- 
ment of five hundred English and one hundred 
Indians to seize the military stores at the town 
of Bennington, in Vermont. General Starke 
attacked and entirely routed these troops ; the 
greater part of them were killed or taken pri- 
soners ; a few escaped into the woods. Other 
troops, sent by Burgoyne, arrived, and met 
their flying comrades. They were attacked 
by the Americans, and obliged to give up 
their baggage and artillery, and save them- 
selves by retreating under cover of the night. 

In this action the Americans gained one 
thousand stand of arms from the enemy, and 
the report of the British killed and wounded 
was seven hundred, and of Americans, one 
hundred. 

These sanguinary battles are not recited to 
fill the mind with a love of scenes which 
should strike us with horror, at the dreadful 
result produced by human passions. They 
are facts, however, connected with our coun- 
try’s struggle for liberty ; and, no doubt, such 
signal success encouraged greatly the hearts 
of those who stood up for its defence. 

General Gates took the command of the 
northern army. General Washington had 
sent a detachment of riflemen from his own 
army, and had directed all the troops that 
were in Massachusetts to join them ; and Ge- 
neral Gates, with this force, met Burgoyne at 


102 


LIFE OF 


Stillwater, where a battle was fought on the 
19th September, which was very severe, and 
neither army could claim the victory ; but it 
was an action in which the Indians became 
tired, and deserted in great numbers, so that 
it was in reality of great importance to the 
Americans. 

General Burgoyne moved on towards Sara- 
toga, and General Gates followed him. Bur- 
goyne, as if disposed to destroy the country 
which he could not conquer, set fire to all the 
dwelling houses in his way, and reduced them 
to ashes, — broke down all the bridges, and 
endeavoured to stop up the road, to delay his 
pursuers ; but the Americans were not long in 
surmounting such difficulties. 

General Gates, anticipating the course that 
Burgoyne would take, placed his own troops 
in such situations as entirely surrounded the 
army of the enemy. 

To deprive Burgoyne of his only hope of 
escape up the Hudson, General Gates ordered 
troops to guard all the fords, and defend them 
until his army should join them. General 
Burgoyne used every means to effect an 
escape, but his conquering course was run. 
Seeing his situation to be desperate, he made 
proposals for a surrender, and articles of capi- 
tulation were agreed to, by which the British 
soldiers were to march out of their camp, lay 
down their arms, and not to serve again in the 
war. They were to go to Boston, and thence 


WASHINGTON. 


105 


General Washington. She told her family 
she would go to Frankford, to the mill, where 
she always got her flour; and she had no 
difficulty in getting permission from Gene- 
neral Howe to pass the troops on the lines. 
Leaving her bag at the mill, she hastened to- 
wards the American camp, and met an Ameri- 
can officer, named Craig, whom she knew. 
To him she told the secret, and made him 
promise not to betray her, as her life might 
in that case be taken by the British. Craig 
hastened to General Washington with the in- 
formation, and Lydia returned home with her 
flour. 

General Howe marched on the 4th Decem- 
ber, but found Washington expecting him ; 
and, disappointed, he encamped within three 
miles of the Americans. An action was then 
expected by Washington, and he prepared for 
it. 

One day passed in which small detachments 
from each army attacked each other, and then 
all remained again at rest. Another day was 
spent in the same manner, and Washington 
employed himself in giving directions to every 
division of his army, and in encouraging them 
to resist with calm bravery. General Howe 
suddenly broke up his camp, and marched his 
troops back to the city. His doing so was a 
proof that he doubted too much the result of a 
contest, when the Americans were in a favour- 
able situation for meeting him. y . . \ 


% 


106 


LIFE OF 


CHAPTER V. 

1777 — 1780. 

As the severe cold increased, the sufferings 
of the troops caused Washington great anxie- 
ty ; and he determined on seeking some better 
shelter for them than that of tents. He could 
not separate them with safety, and he deter- 
mined on removing to a place called the Val- 
ley Forge, on the west side of the Schuylkill, 
about twenty-four miles distant from Philadel- 
phia. The march of the army might have 
been traced by the marks of many naked, 
bleeding feet, on the frozen earth. The half 
perished men erected log huts, to shelter them 
from the piercing blasts, but their clothing 
was light ; and when they lay down to rest, 
they had not blankets to cover them on their 
bare earthy beds. The difficulty of getting 
provisions was so great that they were often 
many days without bread, or any other kind 
of food, than that of a scanty portion of pota- 
toes, and nuts, which they could gather from 
under the dried leaves in the woods. The re- 
gular order of an encampment was kept up, 
and there was no change except that of huts 
for tents. 

In the year 1827, on that spot were collect- 
ed several thousands of the inhabitants of this 


WASHINGTON. 

now free and prosperous land, to celebrate 
with “ the voice of mirth and gladness,” the 
ingathering of a rich harvest, given to them 
by that bount^is God who “ clothes their 
pastures wiUfflocks, covers over their valleys 
with corn, ana crowns the year with his good- 
ness.” 

What a 1 contrast was the -scene of that har- 
vest-home, to that of the hut encampment ! 
Should an American think of it, and not ac- 
knowledge with gratitude that it must have 
been the mighty hand of the great Ruler of the 
universe, that led those patriots through a wil- 
derness of sufferings to the purchase of a land 
of freedom and prosperity for their children ? 
and acknowledging this, can any one refuse to 
praise him for his goodness, and “ offer unto 
him the sacrifice of thanksgiving ?” 

Washington heard that he was blamed for 
seeking even the hut shelter for his suffering 
troops, and he said, “It is much easier to 
censure by a good fireside, in a comfortable 
room, than to occupy a cold, bleak hill, and 
sleep under frost and snow, without either 
clothes or blankets.” 

Restless busybodies raised a report that he 
was wearied of his situation, and intended to 
resign it ; in a letter to a friend, he said, “ I 
can assure you, that no person ever heard me 
drop an expression that had a tendency to re- 
signation. I have said, and I do still say, 
that there is not an officer in the United States 



LIFE OF 


j||P 

108 

that would return to the sweets of domestic 
life with more heart-felt joy than I should. 
But I would have this declaration accompanied 
by these sentiments, that wh^athe public are 
satisfied with my endeavoum I ift^ah not to 
shrink from the cause; bu^fflro moment her 
voice, not that of faction, calls upon me 
resign, I shall do'«so with* as i much pleasure "' 
as ever wearied traveller! retired to rest.” 

The faithful wife of 'Washington had no 
family to need her care at home, and when he 
was absent and deprived of its comforts, that 
home was cheerless to her. When iL was 
possible, she was with him to share hismard- 
ships, and endeavour to^ contribute to cheer 
his sad prospects, by her attentions and ex- 
pressions of calm, firm confidence, that better 
days would soon come. At the hut-camp his 
table was furnished with no better food than 
could be procured for his troops ; and his wife 
then shared his hard bread and few potatoes. 
Her willingness to do so, and her cheerful 
conduct, assisted to enliven the desponding, 
and encourage those who were cast down. 
Through the trying scenes of the long con- 
test, the American women proved that they 
possessed patriotic feelings, by doing all in 
their power to aid their fathers, sons, bro- 
thers, and husbands, in the defence of their 
country. 

They actively endeavoured to supply them 
with clothing, and to free them from anxiety 


WASHINGTON. 


109 


for the safety of themselves and their children, 
whom they were obliged to leave unprotected. 
An extract from a letter, written in the. gloomy 
December of 1776, will be a specimen of the 
sentiments expressed generally by American 
wives. “ The country here is all in confusion ; 
the militia’ are to march in the morning. I 
will send a letter, byt know not where it will 
find you. May God grant you health, and pre- 
serve you through this fatiguing campaign. I 
feel little for myself, when I think of the dan- 
gers to which you and so many of my brave 
couiUrymen are exposed. But I will not re- 
pine*_God is all sufficient. I would not have 
you here, when your country calls, if one wish 
could bring you. Feel no care for me and 
our children ; through the mercy of our God, 
I have been enabled to conquer my fears, and 
do hope in his providence to meet you again 
in affietter day. I think a decisive stroke must 
soon be given ; God grant that it may be in 
our favoifr.” 

Often obliged to conceal themselves and 
their children, in barns and wood-thickets, 
from the parties of English soldiers which 
overran the country, many were the fervent 
prayers which the American women breathed 
from those hiding places to the ever present 
God, whom they trusted would protect them. 
In his own good time, he fulfilled to them his 
promise, “ My people shall dwell in a peace- 
able habitation.” 

K 


110 


LIFE OF 


While his army were in their log huts, 
Washington was not idle. He directed vari- 
ous means to be tried for obtaining supplies 
of provisions ; and employed his mind in re- 
flecting on the best plans to be pursued by the 
different commanders of the army. He pre- 
pared accounts for each state, of the number 
of troops which remained. of those sent by it, 
and urged earnestly that more should be en- 
gaged. Congress was assembled in Lancas- 
ter, and appointed a committee to visit the 
camp, and Washington wrote a statement for 
them of all his plans for relieving the army. 

While he was thus engaged, he received a 
letter from the English governor of New York, 
enclosing a resolution of Parliament to propose 
a reconciliation to the Americans ; offers of 
pardon were made, but none to acknowledge 
their independence. 

The governor requested General Washing- 
ton to make this resolution known to his ar- 
my. He sent the letter and paper to Congress, 
and expressed his surprise at the “ extraordi- 
nary request of the governor.” Congress 
immediately resolved to refuse accepting any 
offers from the English government, unless 
the independence of their country was ac- 
knowledged. General Washington enclosed 
this resolution to the governor, and requested 
him to make it known to the English army. 

To show the settled determination of Con- 
gress on this point, and the spirit of devotion 


WASHINGTON. 


Ill 


in which they had acted, it may be mentioned 
that Mr. Laurens, the President of Congress, 
stated, in reply to a letter to him on the sub- 
ject, that it would be unnatural to suppose 
their minds less firm than “ when destitute 
of all foreign aid, and even without expecta- 
tion of an alliance, when upon a day of gene- 
ral fasting and humiliation, in their houses of 
worship, and in the presence of God, they re- 
solved to hold no treaty with Great Britain 
unless they shall acknowledge the indepen- 
dence of these states.” Men, who, in the ex- 
ercise of confidence in God’s providence, and 
in humble prayer to Him, calmly resolve on 
any course, are not the persons to be diverted 
from their purpose by fear or the hope of 
gain. Such were the men to whom we owe 
our liberties, under the blessing of the God 
whom they worshipped. 

Several letters were addressed to some 
members of Congress, by commissioners au- 
thorized by the British government, assuring 
them of honours and reward, if they would 
procure a reconciliation on the terms they of- 
fered — that is, to remain colonies. A propo- 
sal was made to Joseph Reed, a member 
from Pennsylvania, that he should have the 
best office in America under the king, and 
ten thousand pounds, if he could bring Con- 
gress to consent to the offers of the British. 
He replied that he was “ not worth buying ; 
but, such as he was, the king of England was 


112 


LIFE OF 


not rich enough to do it.” The commission- 
ers persisted for some time in their endeavours 
to succeed, and sent addresses to persons of 
every description in each state, with offers of 
pardon if they would return to their duty to 
the king, and threatening^ of severe ven- 
geance, if they did not: but their promises 
and threats were alike disregarded. 

About this time Congress received intelli- 
gence from Silas Deane, Dr. Franklin, and 
Arthur Lee, their agents in France, that they 
had succeeded in making a treaty with the 
French nation. The joy throughout the coun- 
try, when this was known, is inexpressible. 
That God, to whom their ardent, prayers were 
offered in the time of distress, was not forgot- 
ten in the day of rejoicing. By order of 
Washington, the several brigades assembled, 
and their chaplains offered up public thanks 
to Almighty God for his mercies, and suitable 
discourses were delivered on the occasion. 

The sufferings of the wounded soldiers at 
Valley Forge pained the heart of their com- 
mander, and he wrote: “ I sincerely feel for 
the unhappy condition of our poor fellows in 
the hospitals, and wish my powers to relieve 
them were equal to my inclinations. Our dif- 
ficulties and distresses are certainly great, and 
such as wound the feelings of humanity.” 

While he was thus humanely and actively 
employed in various ceaseless duties, slaxi- 
derers were busy in secret, preparing new 


WASHINGTON. 


113 


anxieties for his mind. Unsigned letters were 
sent to several members of Congress, contain- 
ing base charges against him, and urging them 
to endeavour to take from him the command 
of their armies. 

He received a letter from Patrick Henry, 
governor of Virginia, enclosing one that had 
been sent to him on the subject. Governor 
Henry said, “ While you face the armed 
enemies of our liberty, and by the favour of 
God have been kept unhurt, I trust our coun- 
try will never harbour in her bosom the mis- 
creant who would ruin our best supporter. I 
cannot help assuring you of the high sense of 
gratitude which all ranks of men in this, your 
native country, bear you. I do not like to 
make a parade of these things, for I know you 
are not fond of it ; but the occasion will plead 
my excuse.” 

After thanking him, Washington, in reply, 
said, “ All I can say is, America has, and I 
trust ever will have, my honest exertions to 
promote her interest. I cannot hope that my 
services have been the best; but my heart 
tells me they were the best that I could ren- 
der.” He requested that the papers might all 
be laid before Congress, as they contained, he 
said, serious charges. 

Pained, no doubt, by these cruel slanders, 
yet his noble mind did not suffer them to in- 
fluence his conduct towards those whom he 
had cause to suppose were the authors of 

K 2 


114 


LIFE OF 


them. He said, “ My enemies take an unge- 
nerous advantage of me. They know I cannot 
combat their insinuations, however injurious, 
without disclosing secrets it is of the utmost 
importance to conceal.” 

The only effect these attacks had, was to 
excite the resentment of the people of the 
United States against those who made them ; 
and to bind still closer to their revered com- 
mander, the army from, whom his secret ene- 
mies wished to remove him. There was 
something in his character which attached his 
officers and troops to him so firmly, that no 
distress nor sufferings could lessen the vene- 
ration they felt for him ; and he always ac- 
knowledged with praise their faithfulness and 
attachment. 

In describing their condition in the hut- 
camp, he said, “ For some days there has 
been little less than a famine in the camp ; but, 
naked and starving as they are, I cannot 
enough admire the incomparable fidelity of the 
soldiers, that they have not before this time 
been excited to a general mutiny or disper- 
sion.” 

The inhabitants of the surrounding country, 
knowing this sad state of the army, were very 
uneasy ; one of them left his home, one day, 
and as he was passing thoughtfully the edge 
of a wood near the hut-camp, he heard low 
sounds of a voice. lie stopped to listen, and 
looking between the trunks of the large trees, 


WASHINGTON, 


115 





116 


LIFE OF 


he saw Gen. Washington engaged in prayer. 
He passed quietly on, that he might not dis- 
turb him ; and, on returning home, told his 
family he knew the Americans would suc- 
ceed, for their leader did not trust in his own 
strength, but sought aid from the hearer of 
prayer, who promised in his word, “ Call 
upon me in the day of trouble ; I will deliver 
thee, and thou shalt glorify me.” A female, 
who lived at the Valley Forge when the army 
was encamped there, told a friend who visited 
her soon after they left it, that she had disco- 
vered that it was the habit of Washington to 
retire to a short distance from the' camp to 
worship God in prayer. Many, who in “ the 
day of prosperity” have forgotten or neglected 
to worship their Creator, will earnestly call 
upon him in “ the day of trouble,” when they 
feel that His power only can deliver them ; 
but it was not thus with Washington ; it was 
his constant custom as one of his nephews 
has thus related: “One. morning, at day- 
break, an officer came to the general’s quar- 
ters with despatches. As such communica- 
tions usually passed through my hands, I took 
the papers from the messenger and directed 
my steps towards the general’s room. Walk- 
ing along the passage which led to his door, I 
heard a voice within. I paused, and distinct- 
ly recognised the voice of the general. Lis- 
tening for a moment, when all was silent 
around, I found that he was earnestly engaged 


WASHINGTON. 


117 

in prayer. I knew this to be his habit , and 
therefore retired, with the papers in my hand, 
till such time as I supposed he had finished 
the exercise, when I returned, knocked at his 
door, and was admitted.” Thus, in obedience 
to Him whom he called “ the Divine Author 
of our blessed religion,” AVashington, in the 
retirement of his chamber, prayed to his 
“ Father who seeth in secret;” and truly his 
“ Father, who seeth in secret,” did “reward 
him openly.” 

Although the sufferings of the Americans, 
while encamped at the Valley Forge, were 
severe, yet, in after days, when those who 
had been engaged in the trying warfare, were 
enjoying the blessings of that independence 
for which they had toiled, they then could 
be sensible that they had been tried by their 
Creator to “ humble them and prove them,” 
that he might “ do them good at the latter 
end.” 

When the gloomy winter was passed, 
Washington prepared, as far as he had the 
power, for the summer campaign ; but all the 
plans he formed for increasing his army were 
in a great degree disappointed. The favour 
of Divine Providence had been given in re- 
straining their enemies from attacking them 
in their hut-encampment ; want of provisions 
would have forced them out of it, and their 
sad condition as to clothing would have disa- 
bled them from remaining in the field unshel- 


118 


LIFE OF 


tered. In February there were more than 
three thousand men unfit for duty, from a want 
of clothes ; and there were not more, than five 
thousand who could have attempted to resist a 
well clad, well fed, and high spirited army. 
The wisdom of their foes was “ turned into 
foolishness,” or the feeble Americans would 
have fallen beneath their power. 

In the spring, to restrain as much as possi- 
ble the parties which went from the city to 
get provisions', and to form a guard for the se- 
curity of the army at the Valley Forge, Gene- 
ral Lafayette, with two thousand men, was 
stationed at Barren Hill, about eight or ten 
miles in front of the army. When the En- 
glish commander was informed of this, he sent 
General Grant, with five thousand men, to 
march quietly in the night, and place them- 
selves between Lafayette and the hut-camp. 
A detachment of militia, who were to have 
guarded the roads in that direction, changed 
their place without the knowledge of Lafay- 
ette; and at sunrise, 20th May, 1778, he 
discovered that this large force of the enemy 
was approaching in a way that would preven 
his retreat to the camp. 

He immediately advanced at the head of a 
column, as if to meet the enemy, while he di- 
rected the rest of his troops to move off rapidly 
towards the Schuylkill, and, as he advanced, 
he also approached the river. General Grant 
halte 1 to prepare for battle ; and Lafayette di- 


WASHINGTON. 


119 


rected some of his troops to arrest the atten- 
tion of those who had been placed to guard the 
ford, and he then passed so quickly over the 
river, with all his men, that he had possession 
of the high grounds by the time that his ene- 
my could arive at the ford ; and they returned 
to the city without having accomplished the 
purpose for which they had been sent out. 

When the English government knew of the 
treaty between France and America, they ex- 
pected that a French fleet would be sent out, 
and in that case Philadelphia would be a dan- 
gerous situation for their army. Sir Henry 
Clinton took the place of Sir William Howe, 
and he was directed to remove the troops from 
the city. When General Washington heard 
of this, he formed his plan for acting. He 
wished to prevent the enemy passing through 
New Jersey with ease; and he directed the 
militia there to break down the bridges, and 
obstruct the roads as much as possible ; and 
he kept his own troops in readiness to move, 
so soon as the enemy should leave the city. 

On the 1 8th' June, 1778, they crossed at 
Gloucester Point, into New Jersey, and passed 
slowly on through Haddonfield towards Allen- 
town. The numerous troops, with their bag- 
gage, formed a line of several miles in length. 

General Washington put his troops into 
motion on the same day, and marched through 
Pennsylvania to Coryell’s Ferry, where the 
town of New Hope has since been built; 


120 


LIFE OF 


there he crossed the Delaware, and advanced to- 
wards Kingston in New. Jersey. The English 
army had marched to Monmouth; and Wash- 
ington, having determined on attacking them, 
gave orders to the officers of his army, and 
marched towards Monmouth, where he met 
the enemies of his country on the 28th June. 
The heat of the air was powerful ; but more 
powerful still were the uncontrolled passions 
of human nature ; and the dreadful work of 
battle commenced, and continued until the 
beams of the glowing sun were all with- 
drawn, and the dark, cool shade of night fell 
upon the awful scene, and stopped the fearful 
work. 

The American army rested on their arms ; 
and General Washington threw himself at the 
foot of a tree, to gain a little ease after the fa- 
tigues of the anxious day. He expected that 
the light of dawn would be the signal for re- 
newing the action ; but the English moved 
silently away in the night, and the morning 
showed the mournful scenes of a battle ground 
— man deprived of life and all its hopes by 
his fellow man ; or wounded, to linger in un- 
comforted sufferings. Every real Christian 
will rejoice, that there is a divine promise 
that the time shall come, when he who is 
“the Mighty'God,” will exercise his power 
as “ the Prince of Pjeace,” and bring all 
hearts into subjection to the mild precepts of 
the gospel, so that “ nation shall not lift up 


WASHINGTON. 


121 

sword against nation, neither shall they learn 
war any more.” 

The victory was claimed by both armies. 
General Washington knew that the English 
could gain a favourable situation before he 
could overtake them, and he determined on 
not attempting it; but moved towards the 
north river, while the enemy passed on, and 
crossed over to New York. 

Before General Washington reached the 
place he intended to encamp on, he received 
a letter from Congress, informing him that a 
French fleet had arrived off the coast of Vir- 
ginia, and that Congress wished him imme- 
diately to form some plan, in the execution 
of which the fleet could assist him. The ad- 
miral of the fleet proposed attacking the En- 
glish at Newport, in Rhode Island. General 
Washington consented to this, and made pre- 
parations for doing so. American troops, 
commanded by General Sullivan, were soon 
in readiness to besiege the town, but waited 
for some days for the French fleet to appear 
and assist them. Feeling confident that it 
was near, Sullivan commenced the siege. 
The fleet in a few days was in sight, but then 
was moved off to meet the English fleet which 
had sailed from New York. They were pre- 
paring for an action, when a violent storm se- 
parated them, and injured several of their 
ships. The English fleet then sailed back to 
New York, and the French admiral D’Estaing 
L 


122 


LIFE OF 


informed General Sullivan, that he could not „V 
return to Newport, but would sail to Boston 
to repair his ships. 

Sullivan was sadly disappointed by this re- 
solution, as it would oblige him to give up the 
siege, in which he had every prospect of suc- 
cess, if assisted by the fleet. General Lafay- 
ette went to the admiral to endeavour to pre- 
vail on him to remain, but his efforts were 
vain. General Sullivan then, in giving his or- 
ders to his troops, said they must “ endea- 
vour to do for themselves, what their French 
friends had refused to aid them in but he 
found it would be useless to continue the 
siege, and he withdrew from Newport. He 
was followed by the English, and had a short 
but severe battle on the 29th August, and then 
crossed over to the* main land. The next day 
a large force and several English ships arrived 
at Newport, so that if he had remained one 
day longer, his army must have been destroyed 
or taken. The French admiral was very 
much offended by what General Sullivan had 
said ; and the people in Boston were so much 
displeased with the conduct of the admiral, 
that it was feared he would not be able to get 
assistance there to repair his ships. 

With care like that of an anxious parent for 
a child, Washington watched every occurrence 
that would be likely to injure the interests of 
his country ; and this event gave him great 
uneasiness. He endeavoured to calm the of- 


WASHINGTON. 


123 


fended parties ; and in this work of peace- 
making he was aided by the amiable Lafay- 
ette, who was as deservedly dear to his own 
countrymen, as he was to the Americans. A 
few letters passed between Washington and 
the admiral, and at last good humour was re- 
stored. 

When the English fleet was repaired, it 
sailed to Boston, to blockade the French ; but 
a storm again carried it out to sea, and in the 
beginning of November the French fleet left 
Boston and sailed for the West Indies. 

As it seemed probable that there would be 
a war in Europe, in which France would take 
a part, General Lafayette wished to offer his 
services to his own country. General Wash- 
ington expressed a wish to Congress that La- 
fayette, instead of resigning his commission, 
might have leave of absence for any time that 
he wished; Congress complied with this, and 
Lafayette returned to France. A part of the 
English army was sent in the fleet of Commo- 
dore Hyde Parker, to the southern states ; and 
as there was no prospect of doing any thing in 
the northern or middle states in a winter cam- 
paign, Washington placed his army in huts, 
the main body in Connecticut, and portions 
on both sides of the Hudson river, and about 
West Point, and at Middle Brook. 

In preparing for the next campaign, Con- 
gress were less active than the anxious mind 
of Washington thought absolutely necessary, 


124 


LIFE OF 


for they expected that the alliance formed with 
France would be of great importance to aid 
them in soon ending the war. Washington 
used every effort to prevent this false security 
injuring the cause he was so desirous to pro- 
mote ; and his wisdom and sound judgment 
could discover the fatal consequences of be- 
coming less active in preparations for defence. 
The English troops which had been sent to 
Georgia, commanded by General Provost and 
Colonel Campbell, had succeeded in taking 
entire possession of that state ; and thus victo- 
rious there, it was probable they would attempt 
to do the same in the other southern states. 
In writing on the subject of increasing every 
effort to raise more troops, Washington said— 
“ I have seen without despondency even for a 
moment, the hours which America called her 
gloomy ones ; but I have beheld no day since 
the commencement of hostilities, when I have 
thought her liberties in such imminent dan- 
ger as at present.” But it was also about 
this time, that reviewing the history of the 
year in a letter to a friend, he observed : — 
“ The hand of Providence is so conspicuous 
in all this, that he must be worse than an in- 
fidel that lacks faith , and more than wicked , 
that has not gratitude to acknowledge his 
obligations .” 

An occurrence in his army caused in his 
mind a new care. The Indians on the frontiers 
of the states had been practising their barba J 


WASHINGTON. 125 

rous warfare, in connexion with some of the 
equally barbarous white settlers. 

Washington determined on sending troops 
there for the relief of the suffering inhabitants ; 
and gave orders for this purpose to the offi- 
cers whom he intended should command these 
troops. The officers of one of the regiments 
entered into an agreement not to march, until 
Congress had paid them all that was due to 
them ; and to resign, if it was not done in 
three days. 

When their commander was informed of 
this he was much distressed. He knew the 
sufferings which had driven them to this de- 
termination ; but he dreaded the ill conse- 
quences of it, and immediately wrote to the 
officers as their friend, as well as their com- 
mander. 

He said, “ The patience and perseverance 
of the army have been, under every disadvan- 
tage, such as to do them the highest honour, 
both at home and abroad ; and have inspired 
me with an unlimited confidence in their vir- 
tue, which has consoled me amidst every per- 
plexity and reverse of fortune, to which our 
affairs, in a struggle of this nature, were ne- 
cessarily exposed. Now that we have made 
so great a progress to the attainment of the 
end we have in view, so that we cannot fail, 
without a most shameful desertion of our own 
interests, any thing like a 'change of conduct 
would imply a very unhappy change of prin- 


126 


LIFE OF 


ciples, and a forgetfulness as well of what we 
owe to ourselves as to our country. The ser- 
vice for which the regiment was intended does 
not admit delay. I am sure I shall not be 
mistaken in expecting a prompt and cheerful 
obedience.” The rest of the letter contained 
assurances of his affectionate interest in their 
concerns, and his constant endeavours to pro- 
cure for them all the relief in his power. 

The officers replied, that they sincerely re- 
gretted having given him uneasiness, but that 
they had been driven to the course they had 
pursued, by being without the means of sup- 
plying their families with food. They assured 
him they did not intend to disobey his orders, 
and that they had “ the highest sense of his 
abilities and virtues.” They marched at the 
time appointed, and their faithful commander 
made such earnest representations to Congress, 
on the subject of making provision for them, 
that he was in a good degree successful in ob- 
taining it. 

Early in the spring, he received information 
that the English in New York were making 
preparations for some expedition ; and he sus- 
pected they would attempt to take possession 
of the forts on the Hudson river. At the com- 
mencement of the Highlands, through which 
the river winds, the Americans had erected a 
fort, which they called Lafayette. It was on 
the west side of the Hudson, and opposite to 
it was a high piece of ground, called Stony 


WASHINGTON. 


127 

Point. They began to form defences there, 
but before they were completed, a large force 
from New York was sent out against the 
workers, and they were obliged to retreat. 
The English then fired upon Fort Lafayette 
from Stony Point, while their ships prepared 
to attack it from their situation higher up the 
river. To prevent the entire destruction of 
all- the troops in it, the commander surrender- 
ed the fort, and the enemy then finished the 
works on Stony Point, and placed troops there 
for its defence. A part of their army then 
marched into Connecticut; the militia of that 
state assembled immediately, and made a 
brave resistance, but it was feeble, compared 
to the power of their foes. The governor of 
New York, General Tryon, commanded them, 
and he excused himself for burning the towns, 
by saying it was “ to resent the firing of the 
rebels from their houses, and to mask a re- 
reat.” 

On the first intelligence of the invasion of 
Connecticut, Washington sent troops to aid 
the militia of that state ; but before they could 
be useful, the English troops were recalled 
to New York. This movement was occasion- 
ed by the activity of the Americans in the 
Highlands. 

Washington had determined on endeavour- 
ing to recover Stony Point ; he thought that 
success in this would draw the enemy from 
their destructive work of burning the towns on 


128 


LIFE OF 


the coast. The troops chosen for this attempt 
were commanded by General Wayne. They 
marched fourteen miles over a rough, moun- 
tainous country, in the middle of July, and 
then had to pass a long marsh. They suc- 
ceeded in approaching the fort in quietness in 
the middle of the night, and made an attack 
with their bayonets, with so much bravery, 
that they got possession of it without a single # 
gun being fired by them. 

As General Washington expected, this suc- 
cess caused the English general to recall his 
army from Connecticut, and he determined to 
employ all his force, by land and water, to re- 
take the fort. Washington knew they would 
certainly succeed, he would not expose his 
troops to destruction, and he withdrew them 
from Stony Point and placed them at West 
Point, which he made the head-quarters of his 
army. Soon after he had done so, one of his 
officers, Major Lee, formed a plan for surpris- 
ing the English troops that were stationed at 
Paules-Hook. He was successful in executing 
his plan, and took a large number of them pri- 
soners. 

The French fleet returned from the West 
Indies, and arrived off the coast of Georgia; 
and, assisted by the American troops, who 
were commanded by General Lincoln, made 
an unsuccessful attack upon the English, who 
had possession of Savannah. The fleet then 
left America again. 


WASHINGTON. 


129 


In the course of that season, the noise of 
war was heard in almost every portion of the 
land. Gen. Sullivan was sent against the In- 
dians on the frontiers. English troops enter- 
ed the newly settled parts of Massachusetts, 
and a large force was also busy in the south. 

When the month of December was almost 
passed, General Washington placed his army 
in two hutted-camps. One near West Point, 
for the security of the posts on the North ri- 
ver; and the other near Morristown, New 
Jersey. 

Winter quarters afforded but little rest to 
his anxious mind, for his troops were desti- 
tute of provisions, — so much so, that he wrote 
to Congress that at one time he thought it 
would be impossible to keep them together, 
for they had to eat “ every kind of horse food 
but hay;” and yet, said he, “they bore it 
with heroic patience, and not one mutiny was 
excited.” 

A considerable force, commanded by Sir 
Henry Clinton, was sent from New York to 
the southern states, and was actively employed 
there during the winter. An army and fleet 
attacked Charleston, which was bravely de- 
fended by General Lincoln and a few troops ; 
but the power of their enemies could not be 
resisted long, and Gen. Lincoln was obliged 
to surrender to them. His troops, and the ci- 
tizens of Charleston who had given their aid 
to defend it, were considered as prisoners of 


130 


LIFE OF 


war. The success of the English induced 
their commander to think that the southern 
states would soon be reduced to submission ; 
he left part of his army there, under the com- 
mand of General Cornwallis, and returned 
with the rest to New York. 

Cornwallis continued to be successful, and 
addressed the inhabitants of Carolina, to in- 
duce them to submit to the English govern- 
ment; but many of the richest inhabitants 
gave up their property and went into banish- 
ment from their homes, rather than remain 
upon the terms offered to them. 

The little American army there were ac- 
tive in their brave endeavours to stop the pro- 
gress of the invaders, and were in some in- 
stances successful ; but Cornwallis was again 
assisted by an addition to his army from New 
York, and he moved on, overpowering all op 
position. 


CHAPTER VI. 

1780. 

The openingof the year 1780 found Wash- 
ington in the most discouraging circumstances. 
But, though he was “ walking in the midst 


WASHINGTON. 


131 


of troubles,” he was not forsaken by God, and 
he might have used the language of trust, 
“ Thou wilt revive me : thou shalt stretch 
forth thy hand against the wrath of our ene- 
mies, and thy right hand shall save us.” 

The difficulty of obtaining food, and the 
uncertainty of receiving even the small pay 
that was due to them, had greatly depressed 
the soldiers ; and the patience of some was 
almost worn out. Two regiments declared 
their resolution to return home, and it was 
with some difficulty they were prevented, and 
induced to persevere in the performance of 
their duty. The paper money, which was 
the only kind Congress had to pay them with, 
was becoming every day less in value ; and 
when they did receive it, four months’ pay of 
a soldier would not purchase a bushel of 
wheat for his family ; nor would the pay of 
an officer supply him with the shoes he 
needed. 

The discontent which was arising in the 
army was known by the English commander 
in New York, and he secretly sent into their 
camp a paper, which contained artful persua- 
sions to induce the discontented to give up 
the cause in which they had suffered so 
much. He thought, too, that the inhabitants 
of the surrounding country were wearied with 
endeavouring to supply an army with provi- 
sions ; and he sent five thousand men, com- 
manded by General Knyphausen, with the 


132 


LIFE OF 


expectation that they would not meet any op- 
position from the people ; and that some por- 
tion of the American soldiers would be willing 
to join them. 

They landed at night at Elizabethtown 
Point, in New Jersey, and marched early the 
next morning towards Springfield ; but they 
soon were convinced that they were mistaken 
as to the manner in which they would be 
welcomed by the inhabitants and the army. 
On the first appearance of the confident inva- 
ders, the militia of the state assembled, and 
though their number was not sufficient to make 
a stand against them at any one place, they did 
not lose sight of them, but made irregular at- 
tacks whenever their situation would admit of 
doing so. 

A flourishing settlement, called the Con- 
necticut Farms, was entirely reduced to ashes ; 
and the wife of the clergyman, who was sit- 
ting in her house surrounded by her children, 
was shot by a soldier who saw her through 
the window. This savage act was condemned 
by his commander, but it had the effect of 
rousing all the people to resistance. 

The same day on which the English march- 
ed from Elizabethtown, Washington marched 
with his army to meet them near Springfield, 
and there prepared for an engagement ; but 
the enemy retreated in the night to the place 
where they had landed. He then determined 
to march for the protection of the forts in the 


WASHINGTON. 


133 


Highlands, for which he thought the British 
were aiming; but soon after he left Morris- 
town, the enemy moved on to Springfield and 
burned it, in spite of the efforts of General 
Greene, whom Washington had left there 
with a thousand men. The troops of Greene 
took a station in the heights, from which they 
could annoy the army, and prevent their pro- 
gress, and Sir Henry Clinton returned to Sta 
ten Island. 

When General Lafayette returned to France, 
he was received with great favour ; and that 
kind and faithful friend of Americans used all 
his influence to persuade the French govern- 
ment to send them assistance. He succeeded 
in his efforts ; and when he had done so, as 
his own country did not need his services, he 
returned to America, to bring the tidings that 
a French fleet would soon sail for the United 
States. 

Lafayette was received by his friend Wash- 
ington with joy and affection. He had deter- 
mined to remain, and share again his toils and 
dangers by resuming his situation in the army. 
He was welcomed by Congress with respect, 
and they immediately began to make more ac- 
tive preparations for the next campaign, in 
the hope that it would be the last one. They 
called upon the different states to raise more 
troops, and give more aid to provide for them. 
This call was attended to ; but the expected 
aid was slowly given. A number of citizens 
M 


134 


LIFE OF 


of Philadelphia, consulted together to deter- 
mine on the most effectual way in which they 
could give assistance. An extract from the 
resolution they formed, will show their plan : 
“ We, the subscribers, deeply impressed with 
the sentiments that on such an occasion should 
govern us, in the prosecution of a war, on the 
event of which our own freedom, and that of 
our posterity, and the freedom and indepen- 
dence of the United States, are all involved, 
hereby severally pledge our property and cre- 
dit for the several sums specified and mention- 
ed after our names, in order to support the 
credit of a bank, to be established, for furnish- 
ing a supply of provisions for the armies 
of the United States.” This was the first 
bank in the United States, and the amount 
of the subscription to it was three hundred 
thousand pounds. Several private contribu- 
tions were sent to the suffering troops from 
individuals ; but all that was done was insuffi- 
cient for the relief that was needed ; and, so 
late as the last of June, General Washington 
wrote to Congress, to urge them to further ef- 
forts, and show them the great necessity for 
more aid. 

The state of his army caused him distress 
and vexation. He felt for the officers, as he 
knew they must suffer mortification from the 
exposure of their condition to the well fed and 
well clothed French troops, who were ex- 
pected soon to arrive. He said in his letter 


WASHINGTON. 


135 


on the subject to Congress — “ For the troops 
to be without clothing, at any time, is highly 
injurious to the service and distressing to our 
feelings ; but the want will be more peculiarly 
mortifying, when we come to act with those 
of our allies. It is most sincerely to be wish- 
ed that there could be some supplies of cloth- 
ing furnished to the officers. There are a 
great many whose condition is still miserable. 
It would be well for their own sakes, and for 
the public good, if they could be furnished. 
They will not be able, when our friends come 
to co-operate with us, to go on a common rou- 
tine of duty ; and if they should, they must, 
from their appearance, be held in low estima- 
tion. 5 ’ 

This picture of the state of the American 
army shows the strength of the patriotism 
which influenced them. They felt severely, 
but no sufferings could induce them to give up 
a cause in which they believed they were ex- 
ercising virtuous principles. Gaining a vic- 
tory in battle might have caused them to be 
loudly praised ; but their patient perseverance 
in the endurance of their various trials, is 
much more worthy of remembrance and admi- 
ration, than the heroism displayed in a battle 
would be. 

The American females were not inactive in 
that time of need ; they employed themselves 
in making up clothing for the destitute sol- 
diers, and in many instances denied themselves 


136 


LIFE OF 


the use of comforts, that they might cast a 
mite into this treasury. 

Another cause for anxious care was given 
to Washington, in the uncertainty of the num- 
ber of troops he would probably have under 
his command from the different states. It was 
very important for him to know this, in form- 
ing his plans for acting with the French fleet. 
In writing to Congress on the subject, he said 
— “ The interest of the states, the honour and 
reputation of our councils, the justice and 
gratitude due to our allies — all require that I 
should, without delay, be enabled to ascertain 
and inform them, what we can or cannot un- 
dertake. Delay may be fatal to our hopes.” 
In this vexing state of uncertainty, he did not 
indulge the wayward feeling that he might be 
less active in the performance of his duty, be- 
cause others, who were as much concerned 
in the advantage to be gained, were neglectful 
of theirs. He engaged his mind in forming 
various plans, with the hope of obtaining the 
assistance needful for executing them. He 
was anxious to attempt getting possession of 
New York, which was the stronghold of the 
enemies of his country ; and. feeble as the 
hope of success was, he cherished it. 

In July he heard that the French fleet had 
arrived at Rhode-Island ; and it was neces- 
sary that he should immediately determine 
on some particular plan in which the fleet 
could give assistance. His favourite one of 


WASHINGTON. 


137 

attacking New York, was resolved upon, and 
he wrote to Congress his determination. Ge- 
neral Lafayette carried to the French admi- 
ral the plan which Washington had formed. 
A day in August was appointed on which it 
was expected the fleet might sail for New 
York; and the American army was to assem- 
ble at Morrisiana, in readiness to be aided by 
the fleet in the proposed attack. Before the 
appointed day arrived, a British fleet came 
from England, which, in addition to that al- 
ready at New York, made a force much 
greater than that of the French fleet, which 
they immediately determined to attack, as 
it lay before Newport, at the same time that 
Sir Henry Clinton should attack that town 
with his troops. 

When General Washington heard of this 
plan, he sent information of it to the French 
admiral ; and resolved, that in the absence of 
the troops who were to leave New York, he 
would attempt to take possession. He added 
to his army all the troops that could be 
spared with prudence from West Point, and 
was marching hastily to New York, when 
Sir Henry Clinton suddenly returned ; he had 
heard such accounts of the situation of the de- 
fences at Newport, that he had given up hfs 
intention to attack it. Washington and his 
army were greatly disappointed, for he knew 
it would be rash to attempt attacking the city 
without the aid of a fleet, when it was so well 


LIFE OF 


138 

guarded by one ; but he did not give up the 
hope of being assisted, and wrote to the French 
admiral on the subject. Several letters passed 
from one to the other, but they concluded that 
they could undertand the plan better, if they 
saw each other to converse on it ; they agreed 
to do so, and General Washington went to 
Hartford in Connecticut, to meet the admiral 
on the twenty-first day of September. 

While he was absent, the fierce but artful 
passion of revenge was busy in the heart of an 
American, forming a plot of treason. When 
the English had left Philadelphia, General 
Arnold was placed there to take the command, 
as it was a situation in which he could have the 
rest which seemed to be necessary for the reco- 
very of the wounds which he had received 
in Canada. His courage and military talent 
caused him to be highly regarded- as an offi- 
cer, and his countrymen were desirous that 
he might be able again to take an active part 
in the war. His bodily strength was soon 
restored; but the integrity of his mind was 
feeble : and he who had endured hardships 
with bravery, and had been a hero in battle, 
was overcome by the indulgence of ease, and 
became a coward in his resistance of tempta- 
tions to the practice of vice. One of the 
many paths which are on the “ broad way 
that leadeth to destruction,” is called the path 
of pleasure. Arnold, who had toiled through 
dangers, and fought for liberty with bravery 


WASHINGTON'. 


139 


and ardour, entered that delusive path, and 
soon became the slave of its weakening influ- 
ence. Whilst his former companions in the 
field of battle were persevering <*>urageously 
in the defence of their country, and suffering 
from the want of food and clothing — he was 
engaged in dissipation, and was wasting a for- 
tune in the gratification of idle vanity. He 
became involved in debt; and then dishon- 
estly used every means within his power, to 
get possession of the property of others. His 
ill conduct was at length made known to Con- 
gress, and they appointed a court of officers 
of the army, to examine the charges brought 
against him. 

His accusers had no difficulty in proving 
what they asserted, and the court sentenced 
him to receive a reproof from General Wash- 
ington ; which they considered a truly severe 
punishment. He received reproof from stern 
virtue with feelings of bitter resentment. 
Vice had so hardened his heart, that the con- 
sciousness of deserving punishment had not 
the effect of softening it to repentance ; and 
to plan for revenge against the officers who 
had sentenced him, and the upright and noble 
man who had reproved him, became the em- 
ployment of his thoughts. 

His depraved mind could readily practise 
deception ; and he said he was desirous to be 
again placed in a situation to be useful to his 
country. He expressed a desire so frequently, 


140 


LIFE OF 


and with such seeming sincerity, that Gene- 
ral Washington offered to him the command 
of a division of the army, when he was pre- 
paring to attack New York, in the absence of 
Sir Henry Clinton. Arnold said that his 
wounds had rendered him too feeble, to en- 
gage in very active duties, and declined accept- 
ing this offer. General Washington could# not 
feel any suspicions of his resentful intention ; 
though he was surprised at his unwillingness' 
* to use an opportunity for recovering the fa- 
vourable opinion of the public. 

The state of New York was particularly 
interested in the safety of West Point; and 
some important inhabitants of that state, who 
had a high opinion of the military talents of 
Arnold, and believed him to be faithful in his 
attachment to his country, applied to General 
Washington to place him there ; as he might 
be very useful without much bodily exertion. 
This was the very situation which Arnold was 
anxious to obtain ; and after writing to Gene- 
ral Washington on the subject, he went to the 
camp to see him, and urge the request. The 
General, trusting his professions, and believing 
that he would be very capable of performing 
the military duties of such a station, gave to 
him the command. Rejoicing that he had 
been thus far successful in his deceptive plan, 
Arnold informed Sir Henry Clinton, that he 
was anxious to return to his duty as an En- 
glish subject, and repented having violated his 


WASHINGTON. 


141 


allegiance to his king. In true repentance, 
there is always a desire to benefit those against 
whom the fault has been committed ; and 
Arnold wished to make his profession of re- 
pentance seem sincere, by offering to do all 
in his power to place his country again in a 
state of dependence. 

When he went to West Point, he wrote to 
Sir Henry, that he would manage the troops 
stationed there, so that he might, on attacking 
them, readily make them his prisoners, or 
else entirely destroy them. The English 
general must have despised and distrusted the 
traitor, and he ought to have scorned the pro- 
posal of using such cowardly means for sub- 
duing the Americans ; but to get possession 
of West Point was so desirable, that he gladly 
received the base offer, and said he would ap- 
point an officer to correspond w T ith Arnold on 
the subject. 

The officer chosen for this degrading duty 
was Major Andre. He was young, and had 
been expensively educated, and his disposition 
was so frank and amiable, that he was es- 
teemed by all who became acquainted with 
him. As an officer he was brave and faithful, 
and was a favourite in the army. His friends 
were strongly and tenderly attached to him, 
and felt a perfect confidence in the strength 
of his virtuous principles. But the foundation 
of those principles was a wrong one ; they 
were placed on what he considered to be the 


142 


LIFE OF 


duty he owed to men, arid not on that which 
he owed to God. When Sir Henry Clinton 
informed him of the employment he intended 
to give him, he consented to take a part in 
deception and treachery, and by doing so, lost 
his claim to integrity. 

Several letters passed between Arnold and 
Andre, signed by the feigned names of Gus- 
tavus and Anderson ; but the plan of*treason 
could not be safely understood without some 
conversation on the subject, and Arnold sent 
a pass, or written permission for Andre to go 
in the character of a person on business, past 
the guards at West Point, to a house near the 
out-post, where he promised to meet him : in 
the pass, he was called John Anderson. An 
English sloop of war, named the Vulture, 
was sent up the Hudson to take Andre as 
near to West Point as possible, without the 
risk of exciting suspicion. He was rowed in 
a small boat to the shore, and arrived in safety 
at the place appointed by Arnold. Night was 
chosen to veil from human eyes the plottings 
of treachery ; but “ an All-seeing eye,” to 
which “ the darkness is as the noon day,” 
rested on the deluded and erring Andre. And 
a power, from which no human strength or 
wisdom can deliver, was preparing a dreadful 
punishment for his wanderings from the path 
of virtue. 

The night was spent in deeply interesting 
conversation, and the morning dawned before 


WASHINGTON. 


143 


all the parts of the dark plot were well under- 
stood. Andre could not return to the vessel 
by the light of day, with any hope of safety ; 
and Arnold assured him that he could conceal 
him until night, and for this purpose took 
him within the posts, and remained with him 
all day. The Vulture had been noticed from 
the fort, and fired on, and the commander 
thought it necessary to move to a greater dis- 
tance down the river. When daylight had 
again faded from the sky, and the hour of dark- 
ness had come, for which no doubt Andre 
had anxiously watched, he left his place of 
concealment, and expected to be quickly con- 
veyed to the vessel from which he had come 
the night before ; but it was removed to so 
great a distance, that he could not prevail on 
any boatman to take him to it, and Arnoki 
did not dare to aid him in persuading them. 

Sadly perplexed, Andre was obliged at 
.length to determine on passing to New York 
by land. This was a perilous attempt ; for 
parties of militia were employed in watching 
all the roads leading from the Highlands to 
that city. Arnold insisted on his changing his 
dress for a plain one, and wrote a pass for 
him, desiring the guards and militia to “ per- 
mit John Anderson to go to the White Plains, 
on business of great importance.” 

With this permit he passed all the out- 
guards with safety ; and was riding on wi^h 
a feeling of security, when near to Tarrytown, 


144 


LIFE OF 


a young man sprung from a thicket by tlic 
road side* and seized the bridle of his horse. 
In the first practice of deception an ingenuous 
mind is timid ; and Andre, though brave when 
acting truly, became a coward when he was 
conscious that he was a deceiver. He forgot 
his pass in the moment of need, and in a hur- 
ried tone of alarm, asked the man where he 
was from? “ From below,” was the reply; 
and supposing this meant from New York, 
Andre said hastily, “ So am I and added, 
that he was a British officer, who was going on 
important business, and begged that he might 
not be detained a moment. Two more young 
men then came from the woods ; and he dis- 
covered too late that they all were Ameri- 
cans : their names were David Williams, John 
Paulding, and Isaac Yanwert. He offered to 
give them his valuable watch, a purse of gold, 
and the promise of a large reward from the 
English commander, if they would allow him 
to pass. 

All his offers were disregarded, and he was 
obliged to submit to be searched. The pa- 
pers he had received from Arnold were in his 
boots ; his captors took possession of them, 
and conducted him to a militia officer named 
Jameson. Andre, anxious for the safety of 
Arnold, asserted to Jameson that his name 
was John Anderson, and requested him to 
send immediately to West Point, and inform 
General Arnold that he was there. Jameson 


WASHINGTON 1 . 


145 


could not believe that Arnold was connected 
with Andre in a plot of treachery, and he im- 
mediately complied with his request. When 
Andre thought that Arnold had time to escape, 
he again acknowledged his real character ; 
and Jameson sent an express to Gen. Wash- 
ington, with the papers that had been found 
in Andre’s boots ; and Andre wrote to him an 
account of the manner in which he had been 
captured, and the reason of his being dis- 
guised. 

General Washington was returning from 
Hartford, and the express took a road differ- 
ent from that on which he was travelling, and 
thus missed him. He had sent to inform Ar- 
nold that he would be at West Point to break- 
fast ; but stopping to examine some of the im- 
portant passes in the mountains, he was de- 
tained later than he expected. Several officers, 
in expectation of seeing their loved comman- 
der, were breakfasting with Arnold, when 
he received a letter from Jameson informing 
him of the capture of John Anderson. With 
an appearance of calmness, he rose and left 
the room ; but his wife saw a change in his 
countenance and followed him. With a few 
hasty words, he told her of his danger, and 
left her, to return to the breakfast room. He 
made an excuse for leaving the officers so 
hastily, by telling them that he had forgotten 
to give some orders which were needful for 
receiving the commander-in-chief with the re- 
N 


146 


LIFE OF 


spect due to him, and that he must immediate- 
ly attend to this duty. 

He was quickly down on the shore, and 
ordered a sergeant and six men to enter a 
boat, and row him immediately to the sloop 
Vulture, which still was at anchor below the 
fort. The sergeant did not hesitate one mo- 
ment, for he thought that General Arnold was 
going with a flag of truce, on business of im- 
portance to the American cause, and he soon 
placed him on board of the vessel. When 
Arnold felt himself safe, he told the sergeant 
that he did not intend to return, as he had de- 
termined to enter the service of the king of 
England, and he endeavored to persuade him 
to do the same. The sergeant and his men 
answered, that “ If General Arnold liked the 
king of England, he might serve him ; but 
they loved their country better, and intended 
to live and die in the support of its indepen- 
dence.” Arnold then proposed to the com- 
mander of the Vulture to detain the men as 
prisoners; but he would not consent to feo 
disgraceful an act. 

By the time that General Washington ar- 
rived at West Point, the plan of treachery 
was known ; but it was too late to secure the 
traitor. He requested to see Mrs. Arnold, and 
found her in a state of extreme distress. She 
begged him not to injure her, and was so vio- 
lent in her feelings that he found it was vain 
to attempt to calm her by assuring her that she 


WASHINGTON. 


147 


should be treated with kindness and respect. 
He left her in the care of her female servant, 
and sent for an officer whom he knew was 
strongly attached to Arnold, and who com- 
manded one of the most important posts in the 
Highlands. When the officer came, Wash- 
ington said to him, “Colonel, we have been 
deceived, Arnold is a traitor ; your post may 
be attacked to-night ; go back to it without 
delay, and defend it bravely, as I know you 
will.” This generous confidence excited the 
feelings of the officer so much, that for some 
moments he was unable to reply ; but when 
he could speak, he said, “Your excellency 
has more than rewarded all that I have done, 
or ever could do for my country.” 

Arnold wrote to General Washington by the 
return of the boat which had conveyed him to 
the vessel. The daring insolence of his let- 
ter raised a glow on the cheek of Washing- 
ton, but the first words he spoke after reading 
it, were dictated by the benevolent feelings of 
his heart. He desired that Mrs. Arnold might 
be relieved from her fears for the safety of her 
husband, by being told that he was secure 
from pursuit. Preparations were made for the 
defence of West Point, in case the enemy 
should attack it; but Sir Henry Clinton would 
not venture to make the attempt, when he 
could not be aided by the treason of its com- 
mander. 

When the fate of Andre was to be deter- 


148 


LIFE OF 


rained, the general officers of the army met to 
examine him, and inquire into all the circum- 
stances attending the dark plot in which he 
had been engaged, that they might judge whe- 
ther he must be considered as a spy. He was 
treated with great tenderness, and was told 
that he might refuse to reply to any ques- 
tions that would lead to his condemnation ; 
but his mind, which had no doubt been en- 
gaged in solemn reflection, could no longer 
willingly practise deception, and he acknow- 
ledged the part he had been acting, so that it 
was not necessary to examine one witness. 

With the hope of forming some excuse for 
him, it was said that he had gone to West 
Point with a flag of truce. He was asked if 
this was true ; he replied, “ Had I come with 
a flag, I might have returned with a flag.” 
An American officer, who had a hope that he 
might yet be saved from condemnation, began 
to say to him that perhaps he might be ex- 
changed for Arnold, — “ Stop,” said Andre, 
“ such a proposal can never come from me.” 
All the circumstances which he confessed, led 
the officers to determine that he deserved the 
character of a spy, and death is the sentence 
which the stern laws of war pass upon sucli 
a character. 

Universal sorrow was felt for the sad and 
disgraceful close of life to which this young 
officer was brought by his departure from the 
path of rectitude. General Washington, in a 


WASHINGTON. 


149 

private letter, expressed his estimation of the 
character of Andre ; and perhaps never per- 
formed with so much reluctance any painful 
duty,, as he did that of signing his sentence of 
death. This sentence was executed soon af- 
ter, when Andre was hung, according to the 
usage of war in such cases. Arnold wrote 
several letters on the subject to General Wash- 
ington, but he did not notice them ; and di- 
rected that his baggage should all be sent to 
him, and that Mrs. Arnold should be carefully 
conducted to New York, where he was. 

We are so ready to forget how unbounded 
and wonderful the power of God is, that we 
think and speak of events, which we consider 
trifling, as if they were not directed by him ; 
but to say that any event happens “ by 
chance,” or “ by accident,” has no meaning, 
unless chance and accident are used as names 
for the secret workings of Divine power, 
which overrules the smallest occurrence as 
certainly as the greatest event. In every cir- 
cumstance connected with Arnold’s plot of 
treason, might be traced that Providence 
which can make the smallest accident defeat 
the wisest plans of man ; and prove that “ A 
man’s heart deviseth his way, but the Lord di- 
rected] his steps.” 

The disappointed baseness of Arnold was 
made, by Him who ruleth all tilings, to be 
useful to his country. Arnold s6nt addresses 
to the officers and soldiers of the American 
n 2 


150 


LIFE OF 


army, to persuade them to follow his example , 
assuring them that if they did so, they would 
be liberally rewarded. These addresses had 
the effect of uniting the Americans more firm- 
ly than ever ; and the indignation which they 
felt, animated them to more exertions to prove 
that they were determined to persevere in 
the defence of their country, and despised the 
man who had forsaken the cause of freedom. 

Arnold was the only American officer who, 
through all the course of the war, deserved 
the name of traitor ; and he most truly merit- 
ed it ; for, after he had joined himself to the 
enemies of his country, he was active in his 
endeavours to plan and perform deeds that 
would be most likely to injure it, and cause 
distress to his countrymen ; but those endea- 
vours were made to produce good for those 
against whom they were directed. 

The account which he gave to Sir Henry 
Clinton of the weak and suffering state of the 
American army, caused him to feel a security 
and confidence in his own strength, which in 
several instances was advantageous to them. 
It has been said, that when all “ the probable 
consequences of his plot, had it been success- 
ful, came to be considered, and the seeming 
accidents by which it was discovered and de- 
feated, all were filled with a kind of awful as- 
tonishment, and the devout perceived in the 
transaction the hand of Providence guiding 
America to independence.” 


WASHINGTON. 


151 


CHAPTER VII. 

1780 — 1781. 

In his conversation with the French admi- 
ral at Hartford, General Washington had been 
convinced that he must give up his favourite 
plan of attacking New York that season. The 
admiral told him that he expected an addition 
to his fleet ; but that until it arrived, he had 
not a force which he considered sufficient to 
meet the English fleet, with any probability of 
success, in an action. The two armies con- 
tinued merely watching each other, Until the 
time arrived for going into winter quarters ; 
and the Americans were then stationed near 
Morristown, and on the borders of New York 
and New Jersey. The troops belonging to the 
New England states were placed at West 
Point, and on both sides of the river Hudson. 

The scenery of West Point and its neigh- 
bourhood is beautifully wild ; and is rendered 
very interesting, by Washington having win- 
tered there in that gloomy period of the revo- 
lution. Nearly six hundred feet above the 
Hudson river, are the ruins of Fort Putnam, 
which commanded the river below and above, 
and also a passagewhich opens in the moun- 
tain. The large stones of which the fort was 
constructed, it is said, were carried up the 
steep path by men. On some of the hills are 


152 


LIFE OF 


remains of huts which were used by the army. 
From a bank flows a remarkably cold and clear 
spring, which is deeply shaded by trees and 
is called Washington’s spring. The old in- 
habitants of the surrounding country, who re- 
membered the time when their defenders were 
encamped on it, delighted afterwards to lead 
strangers to notice a spring, the refreshing 
water of which was daily used by their revered 
protector. The season was too severely cold 
to admit of a winter campaign, with troops al- 
most destitute of clothing; and while they were 
in winter quarters, and the never-idle Wash- 
ington was engaged in preparing for employ- 
ing them as soon as possible, the sad work 
of war was going on in the southern States. 
General Cornwallis, who had been left there 
with an army, had, on the 16th August, at- 
tacked the Americans at Camden, and almost 
entirely defeated them. He then seemed to 
consider South Carolina as a conquered state, 
and all the efforts that were made to resist 
him, he called “ acts of rebellion,” and gave 
orders that all persons who were found op- 
posing the authority of the king of England, 
should have their property destroyed, and be 
treated with the greatest severity. 

Some of the Americans had joined the En- 
glish army, and Cornwallis heard that there 
were others in the back part of the state of 
North Carolina, who were willing to do so ; 
and he sent Major Ferguson with troops, to 


WASHINGTON. 


153 


unite with them in resisting and attacking all 
who continued faithful to the cause of inde- 
pendence. 

Colonel Clarke, an American, who had left 
his home, in Georgia, when the English took 
possession of that state, collected a small 
company and attacked Augusta ; the English 
troops there were soon aided by an additional 
force, and Colonel Clarke retreated to the 
mountains. Ferguson heard of this, and re- 
solved to stop him and his brave little band ; 
but some hardy mountaineers, from the west- 
ern parts of Virginia and North Carolina, as- 
sembled quickly, and were joined by some 
militia from South Carolina. They marched 
rapidly towards Ferguson, who was posted 
on King’s Mountain, and they attacked him 
so bravely, that in a short time his troops 
were entirely defeated. Ferguson was killed : 
three hundred of his party killed or wounded, 
and eight hundred made prisoners. One 
thousand five hundred stand of arms were 
taken: The result of this attack was very im- 
portant, — for the disaffected Americans who 
escaped did not return to Cornwallis, and this 
loss obliged him to retreat out of North Caro- 
lina, where he had expected to be very suc- 
cessful. 

He marched his army to Camden, to wait 
for more troops from New York, which Sir 
Henry Clinton was to send to him. While his 
army were encamped, near Camden, he was 


154 


LIFE OF 


obliged to detach parties of it to endeavour 
to defeat an American officer named Marion, 
who had a few brave men under his command. 
They sometimes concealed themselves in 
swamps and wood thickets, from which they 
rushed out when any opportunity occurred for 
an attack on the enemies of their country ; or 
when they could defend the helpless families 
from which those foes were forcing provisions. 
An anecdote of Marion will serve to show his 
truly patriotic motives for enduring with pa- 
tient fortitude the dangers and sufferings to 
which he was exposed, by persevering in his 
resistance of Cornwallis. 

An English officer was sent to him to make 
some proposals for an exchange of prisoners ; 
he received the officer with civility, and after 
they had settled the business on which he 
came, Marion invited him to stay and take 
dinner with him. At the name of dinner, the 
officer felt surprised ; for on looking round, 
he saw no appearance of any provisions, nor 
of any place for preparing food. A few sun- 
burnt militiamen were sitting on some old 
tree stumps, with their powderhorns lying 
beside them, and Marion looked as if he had 
suffered from hunger. 

The officer said he would accept his invi- 
tation ; feeling curious, no doubt, to know 
where the dinner was to come from. “ Well, 
Tom,” said Marion to one of his men, “ come, 
give us our dinner.” Tom took a pine stick, 


WASHINGTON. 


155 


and with it drew out some sweet potatoes, 
from a heap of ashes, under which they had 
been placed to be roasted. He cleaned them 
first by blowing the ashes from them with his 
breath, and then by wiping them with the 
sleeve of his homespun shirt ; and piling them 
on a piece of bark, he placed them between 
the English officer and Marion, on the trunk 
of the fallen pine tree on which they sat. The 
officer took one of the potatoes, and while he 
was eating it, began to laugh heartily. Marion 
looked surprised. 

“ Excuse me,” said the officer, “ but I was 
thinking how drolly some of my brother 
officers would look, if their government was 
to provide them with such dinners. But, no 
doubt, in general, you fare better ?” “ Rather 
worse,” replied Marion, “ for often we have 
not enough potatoes to satisfy our hunger.” 
“ Then, no doubt, though you are stinted in 
provisions, you draw good pay,” said the 
officer. “ Not one cent,” replied Marion. 
“ Then I do not see,” said the officer, “ how 
you can stand it.” “ These things depend on 
feeling,” said Marion, “ and I am happy. I 
would rather fight to obtain the blessing of 
freedom for my country, and feed on roots, than 
desert the cause, and gain by doing so, all the 
luxuries that Solomon owned.” 

When the officer returned to his commander, 
he was asked why he looked so serious. — “ 1 
have cause, sir, to look so,” was his reply. 


156 


LIFE OF 


“ Why,” said his commander, in alarm, “ has 
Washington defeated Sir Henry Clinton?” 
“ No, sir; but more than that. I have seen 
an American general and his men without pay, 
and almost without clothes, living upon roots, 
and drinking water, and all for liberty. What 
chance have we against such men ?” 

Cornwallis employed a very active officer, 
Colonel Tarlton, to draw Marion and his 
few followers from their secure retreats ; but 
he did not succeed, and he took his revenge on 
the surrounding country by plundering the in- 
habitants. He was drawn from this work by- 
hearing of the appearance of the American 
general, Sumpter, who, with a company of mi- 
litia, was approaching in an opposite direction. 
Sumpter had been a very active officer, but 
Cornwallis thought that he was entirely van- 
quished, and was greatly surprised to hear of his 
being again at the head of a respectable force. 

He immediately determined to attack him 
in his camp, on Broad river, and sent a de- 
tachment from his army, commanded by Ma- 
jor Wemyss, for that purpose, which arrived 
several hours before day, and made the attack 
with vigour ; but Sumpter quickly drew his 
men into order, and they defended themselves 
so bravely, that their enemies were soon 
forced to retreat, with the loss of their com- 
mander. Sumpter then changed his situation, 
and Cornwallis directed Tarlton to follow and 
attack him. 


WASHINGTON. 


157 


Sumpter was placed with his troops on a 
steep hill, near the Tiger river, when Tarl- 
ton rashly attacked them, and was soon 
obliged to retire, in haste and disorder, leaving 
nearly two hundred men killed or wounded 
on the field. The loss of the Americans was 
three killed and four wounded. General 
Sumpter was severely wounded, and as he 
knew that it was probable Cornwallis would 
send a very powerful force against him, he 
thought it most prudent to disperse his men, 
and wait until his wound was healed to call 
them together again. For such was the spi- 
rit which animated men who were struggling 
for freedom that no desertion was feared. 
They came forth for the defence of their 
houses and families, and were ready to return 
whenever their services were needed; 

The regular southern army was at that time 
very small, and the state of it tvas well de- 
scribed by Washington, in a letter to a friend, 
when he appointed General Greene to take 
the command of it ; he wrote, “ You have 
your wish in the officer appointed to the 
southern command. I think I am giving you 
a general : but what can a general do without 
men, without arms, without clothing, without 
stores, without provisions ?” 

In December General Greene joined the 
army at Charlotte, in South Carolina; the 
whole number of troops placed under his com- 
mand, did not amount to many more than two 
O 


158 


LIFE OF 


thousand, a greater part of whom were mili- 
tia. He separated them into two divisions, 
and gave the command of one to General Mor- 
gan, and directed him to move to the south 
side of the Catawba river, while he marched 
down to the Pedee river, to encamp on the 
east side of it. 

Thus situated, the army of Cornwallis lay 
between them, and he determined to attack 
one of them, but wished to leave it uncertain, 
as long as possible, which he would march 
against. Additional troops had been sent from 
New York, and were on their march to Cam- 
den. Cornwallis put his army in motion, 
and directed its course towards North Carolina, 
ordering th~ new troops to join him at the Ca- 
tawba river, and charging Tarlton to move 
rapidly with a large detachment against Mor- 
gan, to “ push him to the utmost, and, at all 
events, drive him over Broad river expect- 
ing, that if he escaped Tarlton, he would be 
met and defeated by the main body of the 
army. 

A sudden swelling of the streams, which 
the army had to pass, delayed it a much 
longer time than Cornwallis had calculated 
for ; and also prevented the new troops from 
joining him at the place he had appointed. 
Tarlton was more active with his troops, and 
reached Morgan before Cornwallis had arrived 
at the situation in which he intended to stop 
him, if he was forced to retreat. 


WASHINGTON. 


159 


General Morgan heard of these movements 
of his enemies, and knowing that his situation 
was a very dangerous one, he crossed the Pa- 
colet river, and placed his men at the fording 
place, to defend it ; but he soon heard that his 
pursuers had crossed the river six miles higher 
up, and he then quickly retreated to a spot 
amongst the pines, called the Cowpens. Halt- 
ing there, Morgan consulted the officers of 
his little army as to the course of conduct that 
ought to be determined on, and they resolved 
to remain there and wait for the attack of their 
foes. They placed their troops on a piece of 
rising ground, in an open wood, and waited 
with firmness for their pursuers, who very 
soon made their appearance, and advanced 
perfectly confident that they should be victo- 
rious. This was on the 17th January, 1781. 

Morgan and his officers gave their orders 
with so much calm judgment, and the soldiers 
attended to them so obediently and courage- 
ously, that Tarlton and his confident troops 
were driven back, and forced to fly, closely 
followed by the Americans, who made priso- 
ners of five hundred of the soldiers and twen- 
ty-nine of their officers. They got possession, 
also, of eight hundred muskets, thirty-five 
baggage wagons, and a hundred horses. The 
Americans had less than eighty in killed and 
wounded. In this battle was Lieutenant-Co- 
lonel Washington, who, when a captain, be- 
haved so bravely at the battle of Trenton. In 


160 


LIFE OF 


the haste of pursuit he was separated from his 
regiment. Three English officers, one of 
whom was Tarlton, seeing this, turned quick- 
ly and attacked him. One aimed a blow at 
him, which was turned aside by a sergeant, 
who rushed forward to his aid. At the same 
moment the second officer made a stroke at 
him, but a young lad, who was too small to 
hold a sword, wounded the officer with a pis- 
tol, and thus saved Colonel Washington, who 
was engaged defending himself against Tarl- 
ton, who, finding that he could not succeed in 
his attack, turned to fly, and discharged a pis- 
tol, which wounded the horse of Col. Wash- 
ington, but did not injure him. 

Tarlton, in this personal conflict, received 
from Washington a wound in the hand; and 
it has been related, that he said to an American 
lady of Charleston, some time afterwards, 
“You appear to think very highly of Col. 
Washington; and yet, I have been told, that he 
is so ignorant a fellow, that he can hardly write 
his own name.” To this silly insinuation she 
replied, “ It may be the case, but no man can 
testify better than yourself, Colonel, that he 
knows how to make his mark .” 

Tarlton retreated with speed from the Cow- 
pens, and did not stop until he reached the 
army of Cornwallis, which was at a distance 
of about twenty-five miles. 

This victory was a very important one to 
the American cause ; for, if Morgan’s army 


WASHINGTON. 


161 


had been defeated, Cornwallis would probably 
have attacked General Greene’s with all his 
force, and no doubt with success, as his 
troops were so numerous ; and then all the 
southern states would have been in his pos- 
session. 

The day after the battle the troops which 
Cornwallis had directed to join him arrived, 
and early the next morning he put all his 
army in motion, determining to attack Mor- 
gan with a force that would certainly destroy 
him. General Morgan marched quickly to- 
wards the Catawba river, and had crossed it 
only two hours before the English army 
reached its banks. As night was near, Corn- 
wallis resolved not to attempt crossing the ri- 
ver until the day should dawn ; but when the 
dawn came, that gracious hand, which was 
conducting the Americans to independence 
through scenes of trial, had placed a barrier 
between Cornwallis and his expected prey, 
which all his power and wisdom could not 
enablp him to overcome. A rain fell during 
the night, which seemed to be too trifling to 
make any increase in the depth of the river, 
but it was rendered impassable, and continued 
to be so for two days. 

This providential delay of his pursuers, 
gave Morgan time to place his prisoners in a 
state of security, with the arms and stores 
which he had taken, and to refresh his wearied 
troops. 

o 2 


162 


LIFE or 


General Greene, on hearing of the battle at 
the Cowpens, was anxious to unite the two 
divisions of his army, and he travelled hastily 
to join General Morgan and aid him by his 
counsel, leaving the other division of his army 
under the command of General Huger. 

When the swell of the waters had abated 
so that Cornwallis could cross the Catawba, 
he did so, and continued a rapid pursuit of the 
Americans, who were marching towards the 
Yadkin river, which they crossed on the 2d 
February, partly on flats, and partly by ford- 
ing it, and had only time to secure, all the flats 
from being used by their pursuers, when they 
appeared on the opposite bank of the river. 
Again the waters were commanded to aid the 
Americans, and, before their foes could prepare 
boats or flats to cross the Yadkin, a heavy rain 
and driving wind rendered it dangerous to 
make the attempt. 

The stream continued to rise, and Corn- 
wallis was obliged to move nearer to its 
source, where it was less deep, before he 
could venture to cross it. 

A celebrated historian of the American Re- 
volution, says : — “ This second hairbreadth 
escape was considered by the Americans as 
a farther evidence that their cause was favour- 
ed by Heaven. That they, in two successive 
instances, should effect their passage, while 
their pursuers, who were only a few miles in 
their rear, could not follow, impressed the re- 


WASHINGTON. 


163 


ligious people of that settlement with such 
sentiments of devotion as added fresh vigour 
to their exertions in behalf of American inde- 
pendence.” 

This delay enabled General Greene to move 
on as far as Guilford Court-House, where he 
was joined by the division he had left under 
the command of Huger. 

When Cornwallis found that he could not 
prevent the union of these divisions, he re- 
solved to endeavour to get between them and 
Virginia, so as to force them to an action, be- 
fore they could receive any aid from troops 
which he heard Were preparing in that state 
to join their countrymen. 

General Greene knew that an action with 
so powerful an enemy must be fatal to his ar- 
my ; and he used great exertions to move it 
quickly on towards the Dan river, with the 
hope of being able to enter Virginia, before 
Cornwallis could overtake him. After many 
difficulties were overcome, General Greene 
succeeded in getting his troops safe across the 
river. They had marched forty miles in 
twenty-four hours, and the last boat in which 
they were crossing the river had scarcely 
touched the northern bank, when the army of 
Cornwallis appeared on the opposite shore. 

General Greene and his little army had re- 
treated for more than two hundred miles, 
without the loss of any men. The season 
was winter, the weather cold and wet, and 


164 


LIFE OF 


the roads either deep or icy, and the troops al- 
most naked and barefooted, and often had no 
other food than corn grated on their tin can- 
teens, in which they punched holes for that 
purpose. The army of Cornwallis had passed 
over the same roads, but they were well 
clothed, and provided with strengthening food, 
and were only prevented overtaking the Ame- 
ricans by the swelling of the waters in their 
way. They were so often thus stopped, 
when the Americans had just passed over in 
safety, that the particular providence of God 
was clearly seen in these delays, and General 
Greene and his feeble army had cause to 
praise the mercy which directed these means 
for their preservation from a powerful foe. 

When the American army entered Virginia, 
Cornwallis gave up the pursuit of it, and 
marched slowly to Hillsborough, at that time 
the capital of North Carolina. He there raised 
the standard of the king of England, and in- 
vited all the inhabitants of the state to assist 
him in restoring the old government. 

General Greene was resolved to preven 
his having entire possession of that state 
and when he had received the addition to his 
army of a few hundred men, he re-crossed the 
Dan river, and moved slowly towards Hills- 
borough. All the country around had been 
searched for provisions to supply the English 
army, and Cornwallis at length found that he 
must remove to another situation, as it was 


WASHINGTON. 165 

impossible for him to obtain what was need- 
ful where he was. 

When he removed, Greene advanced, but 
took care not to place his army where he 
must be forced into an action before he should 
be joined by more troops that he expected 
from Virginia. When they came, he deter- 
mined to risk a battle, and for that purpose 
marched towards Guilford to meet Cornwallis. 
A very severe battle was commenced on the 
15th March, and continued for some time, 
with expectations of victory on both sides; 
but after a considerable loss of men, Corn- 
wallis was able to claim it, and Greene moved 
his troops to a distance of twelve miles, where 
he prepared for another attack, which he ex- 
pected would soon be made. But Cornwallis 
did not attempt it ; for, though he had gained 
a victory, he had lost so many men, and was 
so unable to obtain provisions for his army, 
that he was forced to retreat towards Wilming- 
ton, where he expected he should get supplies 
of food. As he passed on, he proclaimed, 
that he had gained a great victory, and ordered 
that there should be a general illumination. 

A Mrs. Heyward, (whose husband had 
been sent as a rebel in a prison ship to St. 
Augustine, after the English had taken pos- 
session of Charleston,) closed the windows 
of her house, when she heard of the order of 
Cornwallis. An English officer entered it, 
and said, “ How dare you disobey the order 


166 


LIFE OF 


which has been given ? Why is your house 
not illuminated ?” She replied, “Is it possi- 
ble for me to feel joy ? Can I celebrate a 
victory of your army, and my husband a pri- 
soner?” The officer said, “ The last hopes 
of rebellion are crushed by the defeat of 
Greene, and you shall illuminate.” “ Not a 
single light,” said Mrs. Heyward, “ shall be 
placed, with my consent, in any window of 
my house.” “ Then” replied the officer, “ I 
will return with a party, and before midnight 
level it with the ground.” “You have the pow- 
er,” said she, “ and seem disposed to use it, but 
you cannot control my determination, and I 
will not illuminate.” The officer left her and 
did not return to execute his unfeeling threat. 

Cornwallis moved his army into Virginia. 
Some of the inhabitants of North Carolina 
had deserted the cause of liberty, and placed 
themselves under the protection of the En- 
glish army. To them of course, the removal 
of that army from their state was a subject 
of sorrow ; but to all those who had continued 
firm in their determination to be independent 
of the government of England, the deliverance 
from the presence of those whose purpose was 
to make them submit, occasioned great joy. 
The name of Tarlton was heard with dread ; 
for he was constantly practising some severity, 
either in destroying the property of the faithful 
Americans, or in punishing them whenever he 
bad an opportunity. Some, in a moment of 


WASHINGTON. 


167 


terror, had professed a willingness to submit, 
but afterwards repented that they had done so, 
and determined on endeavouring to defend 
themselves ; to such persons Tarlton showed 
no mercy. A young man who had acted in 
this manner, was afterwards taken prisoner, 
and Tarlton ordered him to be immediately 
hung by the road side ; and placed on his 
back the declaration, “ such shall be the fate 
of whoever presumes to cut him down.” No 
one but the sister of the young man dared to 
disregard this threat ; but she, with the reso- 
lution and tenderness of female attachment, 
watched for a time when no one was near to 
prevent her sad and dangerous employment, 
and succeeded in getting possession of the 
body of her loved brother, and placed it in a 
grave. 

While the inhabitants of the more southern 
states had been suffering, those of Virginia 
had not been left to the enjoyment of peace ; 
for the revengeful Arnold had been made a 
general in the English army, and was sent to 
invade the native state of Washington. Early 
in January he attacked Richmond, and suc- 
ceeded in getting possession of it, and in de- 
stroying the military stores there. The re- 
sistance made to his power was too feeble to 
check him, and he used every opportunity for 
gratifying his desire to injure his countrymen. 

All the events of that sad winter were such 
as caused the Americans to feel depressed, 


168 


LIFE OF 


and increased the cares of Washington. There 
were no sounds of gladness to hail the new 
year of 1781, but it commenced with an event 
that threatened ruin to the American cause. 
That part of the army which was stationed 
near Morristown, in New Jersey, had suffered 
so much for want of clothing and food, that 
they determined to march to Philadelphia 
and force Congress to obtain supplies for 
them, or else threaten that they would no 
longer continue in service. Their command- 
ing officer tried in vain to prevent their doing 
so, and they marched towards Princeton. 
Three officers, to whom the soldiers were at- 
tached, followed them to the place where they 
encamped for the night, and prevailed on them 
to send a sergeant from each regiment to meet 
them and state their complaints, and what 
they intended to demand form Congress. 
They did so, and General Wayne, their com- 
mander, promised that their wishes should be 
made known to Congress, and attended to ; 
and urged them to return to their duty. Gene- 
ral Washington was at that time at New 
Windsor, on the North river, and General 
Wayne immediately sent to him an account 
of this alarming mutiny ; and of the demands 
made by those who were engaged in it. 
Washington was much distressed by their 
conduct ; but he felt that they had cause for 
complaint, and thought that he ought not to go 
to them lest they should disobey him, and 


WASHINGTON. 


169 


thus deserve a punishment which would pre- 
vent their being willing to return to duty. He 
made all the preparations that were possible 
for subduing them in case they became violent 
in their conduct ; and directed General Wayne 
to inform Congress of what had happened, 
and let them endeavour to settle the business 
without his interference. 

Congress appointed a committee to visit the 
camp of the mutineers, and make proposals to 
them, which after a short time they agreed to 
accept. The time for which a large portion 
of them had enlisted was passed, and they 
were discharged, so that the army was consi- 
derably reduced. 

When Sir Henry Clinton heard of the mu- 
tiny, he immediately sent men to offer secretly 
to the revolters an assurance that he would 
receive them into his army, and supply all 
their wants, and would send a large force 
from New York to conduct them there in 
safety. But he had mistaken the feelings of 
the American soldiers. In a moment of ex- 
treme suffering they had yielded to the rash 
counsel of some impatient spirits, but no 
thought of becoming enemies of their country 
had entered their minds. They seized the 
messengers of Sir Henry, and made his pro- 
posals known to General Wayne, with an as- 
surance that they had scorned them. The 
committee from Congress offered a reward 
to those who had made Sir Henry’s messen- 
P 


170 


LIFE OF 


gers prisoners, but they refused to accept it, 
saying, “ they had only done their duty, and 
desired for the act nothing more than the ap- 
probation of their country, for which they had 
so often fought and bled.” 

General Washington made use of this re- 
volt to show to Congress, and to the different 
states, the necessity of making more effectual 
exertions to supply the army with clothing 
and wholesome food. He represented their 
sufferings so feelingly, that efforts were made 
in each state, to contribute to their relief, 
and small as the aid was, the sufferers were 
satisfied with this proof, that their country- 
men were not entirely unmindful of them. 

When Congress had succeeded in satisfy- 
ing the discontented troops, they became en- 
gaged in the interesting business of determin- 
ing on a plan for a union of the different states 
which would enable them to carry on the war 
with less difficulty and expense. “ Articles 
of confederation,” were drawn up, and in 
February they were agreed to by all the mem- 
bers of Congress, and the knowledge of this 
bond of union gave universal satisfaction. 

All the accounts which General Washing- 
ton heard from the southern states made him 
very anxious to send more troops there. 
The French fleet had been blocked up in 
the harbour of Newport by an English fleet ; 
but a violent storm injured many of the Eng- 
lish ships, and, by their being moved away 


WASHINGTON. 


171 


the French admiral was enabled to send out a 
few of his ships, which he directed to sail to 
the Chesapeake. When General Washing- 
ton heard of this, he resolved to send troops 
immediately to Virginia, in the expectation 
that he could obtain aid from the French ves- 
sels in attacking some of the ports which were 
in possession of the English. The French 
ships soon returned to Newport, and in re- 
turning they captured an English frigate. Ge- 
neral Washington was disappointed in his 
expectation of being aided by them at that 
time, but he sent troops, under the command 
of General Lafayette, to Virginia; and went 
to Newport to communicate to the French ad- 
miral a plan which he had formed for being 
assisted by some of his vessels. The admiral 
agreed to his proposals, and sent a part of his 
fleet out, but it was met by the English fleet, 
and, after a sharp action, they separated, and 
the French returned again to Newport. 

A part of the troops which were marching 
to the south under the command of Lafayette, 
became discontented, and he discovered that 
every day some were secretly leaving him. He 
called together all that remained, and told 
them that he would not deceive them as to 
the difficulties and dangers to which he ex- 
pected they would be exposed, for they were 
many ; but, that any individual who was un- 
willing to encounter them, was at liberty to 
say so, and should have his permission to re- 


172 


LIFE OF 


turn to the army which they had left in New 
Jersey. This candid and generous conduct 
had the effect of stopping desertions ; for the 
soldiers were ashamed to forsake so excellent 
a commander. In Baltimore he obtained, at 
his own expense, .a variety of comforts for 
them, and the females of that city employed 
themselves immediately in making up summei 
clothing for them. 

A large force had been sent from New 
York to Arnold, and Cornwallis had moved 
quickly to join him, and take command of all 
the troops. With so large a force, he was 
certain that he could readily defeat the little 
army of Lafayette, which he heard had en- 
tered Virginia, and he determined to attack it 
as soon as possible. 

Lafayette wished to avoid Cornwallis, until 
he should have his force increased by some 
troops, which were on their way to join him, 
commanded by General Wayne. Cornwallis 
heard of this, and determined to prevent La- 
fayette receiving this aid, and was so confi- 
dent of being successful, that he wrote, (with 
contempt for the youth of Lafayette,) in a let- 
ter which was intercepted, “ the boy cannot 
escape me.” But “the boy” moved with so 
much judgment and quickness, that his confi- 
dent enemy was soon convinced that he could 
not overtake him, or prevent his being joined 
by the expected troops, and he gave up the 
pursuit, and determined to wait for his return. 


WASHINGTON. 


173 


When Lafayette received the additional 
force, he turned, and was very soon within a 
few miles of the camp of Cornwallis, who im- 
mediately suspected that he intended to at- 
tempt securing some military stores that had 
been sent up the James river to Albemarle 
Court-House, and he placed troops in a situa- 
tion to attack him on the road which he sup- 
posed he would take. Lafayette thought that 
Cornwallis would do so, and in the night 
opened an old road, which had been long out 
of use, by which he marched quietly to the 
situation he wished to gain ; and in the morn- 
ing, when Cornwallis thought to have him in 
his power, he had the mortification of disco- 
vering that he had passed by, and was placed 
in a situation in which he could not be at- 
tacked with advantage. Cornwallis probably 
thought that the American army was larger 
than it really was ; for he gave up the inten- 
tion he had formed of forcing it to an ac- 
tion, and marched to Williamsburgh. Lafay- 
ette followed him with great caution, and at- 
tacked some troops that were moving about 
the country, but avoided the danger of an en- 
gagement with the main army. 

In the rapid course of the English through 
Virginia, they destroyed all the private pro- 
perty that came in their way, as well as that 
which belonged to the public. Their ships 
sailed up the rivers, and robbed the farms on 
their borders. While they were thus employ 


174 , 


LIFE OF 


ed in the Potomac, a message was sent from 
them to the farm of Washington, to demand a 
supply of provisions, with a threat that if they 
were not given, the buildings should be de- 
stroyed, and the farm laid waste. The person 
in whose care the farm had been left, was ter- 
rified by this threat, and went on board of one 
of the ships with some fresh provisions, to beg 
that the house might not be sent on fire. 

When General Washington received an ac- 
count of this, he wrote to the person who had 
acted with so much impropriety, and told him, 
“ I am sorry to hear of your losses, but that 
which gives me most concern is, that you 
should have gone on board of the vessels of 
the enemy, and furnished them with refresh- 
ments. It would have been a less painful cir- 
cumstance to me, to have heard, that in con- 
sequence of your non-compliance with their 
request, they had burnt my house, and laid 
the plantation in ruins. You ought to have 
considered yourself as my representative, and 
should have reflected on the bad example of 
communicating with the enemy, and of mak- 
ing an offer of refreshment to them with a view 
to prevent a conflagration.” 

Lafayette acted with great prudence, and 
used every opportunity for preventing the ene- 
my from plundering ; but his force was too 
small to encounter the main body of their ar- 
my, and he became very anxious that General 
Washington should go to Virginia, and give 


WASHINGTON. 


175 


his aid to his native state, and free it from the 
destructive invaders. The government of the 
state also urged this very much; but Wash- 
ington, considering America as his country, 
and making the safety of the whole country 
his object, would not suffer any love of his 
native state to change the plans which he 
thought would be most likely to produce be- 
nefit to the northern and middle, as well as 
the southern states. A sad gloom was spread 
over all of them when the year had com- 
menced. The enemy were making prepara- 
tions in Canada to march to Fort Pitt ; and it 
was reported that they had assembled three 
thousand men, in ships on the lakes, to make 
an attack again from that quarter. 

The dreaded Indians had united in large 
bands, and threatened all the western frontier 
with a renewal of their ferocious attacks. 

The new troops, which Washington had 
expected from the different states, had not 
been raised, and those which had been long 
in service, were almost worn out with toils, 
and the want of necessary provision of food 
and clothing. 

When any favourable event brightened the 
prospects of his country, Washington calmly 
rejoiced in it, but was not flattered into false 
security ; and, when his countrymen were 
ready to despond, he could trust that the 
cheering beams of Divine favour would dis- 
perse those clouds, and he became more ani- 


176 


LIFE OF 


mated and courageous as others became S3d 
and fearful. He continued to think, that to 
get possession of New York would be of more 
importance than any thing that he could ven- 
ture to attempt, and he used every effort to 
make preparations for doing so. 

He formed a plan, which he communicated 
to the French admiral, who was at Newport, 
and who agreed to assist him in performing 
it ; and he earnestly urged to each state to 
hasten the march of those troops which were 
promised to him. All that depended on his 
own exertions was performed with active per- 
severance ; but the expected troops were de- 
layed, and when they arrived, and he was 
ready to execute his favourite plan, the French 
admiral wrote to him, that he could not ven- 
ture to take his heavy ships into New York 
bay, and had resolved to sail for the Chesa- 
peake ; but there he could not remain long, 
as he had been directed ‘by his own govern- 
ment to return to the West Indies. 

This information was severely trying to Ge- 
neral Washington, as it disappointed his ex- 
pectations of assistance from the fleet, and 
obliged him to give up a plan which he' was 
ready to execute, and from which he hoped to 
gain the most important success in freeing his 
suffering country from its enemies. 

Every one, who with piety notices the pro- 
vidences of God, can know that our best bless- 
ings are often hid beneath our disappoint- 


WASHINGTON. 


177 


ments, as sweet flowers are concealed in bitter 
buds. Washington experienced this in the 
important results that followed his being 
obliged to bid farewell to all hopes of assist- 
ance in his cherished plan of attacking New 
York. He was unwillingly forced to form 
another, which proved far more advantageous 
to the interests of his country than that would 
have been, 

Mr. (afterwards Judge) Peters, one of the 
board of war, was at the camp when the letter 
from the admiral was received ; he said that 
General Washington gave it to him to read, 
and showed strong marks of anger ; that he 
left him for a short time, and, on returning to 
him, he had cause to admire, as he often had 
done, how perfectly General Washington con- 
trolled his naturally hasty temper. He was 
as calm as if nothing had occurred to disturb 
him, and began immediately to form a new 
plan, without wasting the important moments 
in useless regrets. He determined on moving 
his army as quickly and secretly as possible 
to Virginia, before Sir Henry Clinton should 
suspect his design and send aid to Cornwal- 
lis. 

When he informed Mr. Peters, and Mr. 
Robert Morris, the other commissioner of the 
board of war, who was at the camp, that his 
new plan was formed, and said, “ What can 
you do for us under the present change of cir- 
cumstances ?” Mr. Peters said, “Inform me 


178 


LIFE OF 


of the extent of your wants ; I can do every 
thing with money, — nothing without it.” As 
he said this, he looked at Mr. Morris, who 
said, “ I understand you ; — I must have time 
to consider and calculate.” They knew the 
difficulty of obtaining the money ; and, when 
they had left Philadelphia, there was so little 
in the treasury chest, that Mr. Peters could 
not venture to take enough out of it to pay the 
expense of his journey to the camp. He re- 
turned to that city, and set to work industri- 
ously to prepare what General Washington 
had told him he should need. 

In a very short time, almost two hundred 
pieces of artillery, and all the necessary am- 
munition, were prepared and sent off to Vir- 
ginia. All the expense of this, as well as of 
the provision for, and pay of the troops, was 
defrayed by Mr. Morris, who gave notes for 
the promise of payment, to the amount of one 
million and four hundred thousand dollars, 
which were afterwards all paid. 

General Washington informed Lafayette of 
his intention to come to Virginia, and desired 
him to do all in his power to prevent Corn- 
wallis from saving himself by a sudden march 
to Charleston. 


WASHINGTON. 


179 


CHAPTER VIII 

1781. 

In South Carolina and Georgia the cam- 
paign of 1781 was a very active one. A line 
of posts had been continued by the English 
from Charleston, in South Carolina, to Au- 
gusta, in Georgia. General Sumpter and Ge- 
neral Marion kept up a resistance, with a few 
militia, and moved so quickly, that the Eng- 
lish commander could not succeed in defeat- 
ing them. General Greene formed the bold 
resolution of recovering Georgia. He had 
about eighteen hundred men, and his prospect 
of procuring food for them was not very pro- 
mising ; but he believed it to be for the inte- 
rest of his country to make the attempt. He 
sent^Colonel Lee with a detachment to join 
Marion, and requested General Pickens to as- 
semble the western militia of South Carolina, 
and lay siege to Ninety-Six and Augusta, 
while he moved from his camp on Deep river 
to Camden, where he arrived on the 19th 
April. Being unable to storm the works or 
surround them, he encamped near Camden, 
with the hope of having some additional troops 
of militia to aid him. On the 25th April, he 
had withdrawn his troops to Hobkirk’s hill, 
about a mile from Camden, and the English 
general, Rawdon, marched out to attack him. 
Although this attack was unexpected, the 


i80 


LIFE OF 


Americans were soon ready to meet it, and 
General Greene had every prospect of suc- 
cess, when his hopes were destroyed by one 
of his regiments being thrown into confusion; 
the English commander took advantage of this 
with so much activity, that Greene soon per- 
ceived that to save his troops from a total de- 
feat he must retreat, which he did to a place 
about four miles from the field of battle. The 
pursuit was only continued for three miles. 

Colonel Lee had joined Marion in South 
Carolina, and .they attacked Fort Watson, on 
the Santee river, and succeeded in obliging 
the garrison to surrender. 

A garrison had been placed in the dwelling 
house of Mrs. Motte, situated on an eminence, 
on the south side of the Congaree river, near 
its junction with the Wateree ; this was a 
very important post, as all the provisions in- 
tended for the army at Camden were deposit- 
ed there, and fortifications were thrown up 
around the house. Marion and Lee deter- 
mined to drive the garrison from this fortress, 
and Lee informed Mrs. Motte, who was in 
the neighbourhood, that they could not suc- 
ceed without entirely destroying her house. 
She replied, “ The sacrifice of my property 
is nothing; and I shall view its destruction 
with delight, if it shall in any degree contri- 
bute to the good of my country.” She then 
gave him an Indian bow and arrows, which 
had been kept as a curiosity in her family : 


WASHINGTON. 


181 


with these, lighted torches were shot upon 
her house, which took fire, and thus the ene- 
my were driven from it. Lee then marched 
against Fort Granby, on the Congaree, oppo- 
site the site of the town of Columbia, since 
built there, and forced a garrison of three hun- 
dred and fifty men to surrender, while Marion 
marched against Georgetown, on the Black 
river, which place he reduced. 

In July the intense heat of the climate made 
it necessary for General Greene to give his 
troops some rest, and he moved them to the 
high hills of Santee for that purpose. There 
he was joined by some troops from North 
Carolina. In August he determined on once 
more risking an action with the English army, 
and, for that purpose, on the 22d, he proceed- 
ed to the Congaree, where he was joined by 
General Pickens with the militia, and by 
some state troops of South Carolina. On 
hearing of his approach, the English moved 
to the Eutaw Springs, on the Santee, and 
there, on the 8th September, a severe action 
commenced, and was continued for some time 
with great warmth and boldness on both sides. 
At length the contest ceased, and both armies 
claimed the victory. In November the Eng- 
lish retired to Charleston Neck, and to the 
islands in the harbour. 

When General Greene had entered South 
Carolina, he found it completely conquered, 
and defended by a regular army. By a course 

Q 


182 


LIFE OF 


which was courageous, but prudent, he reco- 
vered the southern states, and, at the close of 
the year 1781, they were again under their 
own government. The rigour with which the 
English exercised their power on those who 
seemed disposed to resist, caused the war to 
be more full of calamities to the inhabitants of 
the southern states than those of any other 
portion of the country. 

At the north, still more important events 
were taking place, as the summer advanced. 
The movements of the American army were 
such as to lead the enemy in New York 
to think, that General Washington was pre- 
paring to attack that place ; and Sir Henry 
Clinton had no suspicion of his intention to 
march to Virginia, until the army had crossed 
the Delaware river, and it was then too late 
for him to attempt to stop the progress of the 
active troops. 

With the hope of inducing Washington to 
return for the defence of Connecticut, Sir 
Henry sent to that state a strong detachment 
of troops, in a fleet of transports ; they were 
commanded by Arnold, who had just returned 
from Virginia. 

The march of Washington was not pre- 
vented by this movement of the enemy, but 
he advanced towards Virginia with all the 
speed that was possible, and had the satisfac- 
tion of hearing, when he arrived in Chester, 
early in September, that the French fleet was in 


WASHINGTON'. 


183 


the Chesapeake. He gave directions to his offi- 
cers to bring on the troops speedily, and went 
himself to visit the admiral, and propose to him 
a plan for an attack on the army of Cornwal- 
lis, in which he promised to assist him. 

When Cornwallis had heard of the French 
fleet appearing in the Chesapeake, he had 
drawn all his troops together at Yorktown; 
and with great activity and toil, they had 
raised fortifications for their defence. 

The town is situated on a strip of land, 
about eight miles wide, between the James 
and York rivers. Opposite to the town, on 
the North side of York river, is Gloucester 
Point, which projects into the river so as to 
make it only one mile in width at that place. 
Colonel Tarlton, with seven hundred men. 
was posted on Gloucester Point. The south- 
ern banks of the river are high ; some batteries 
had been constructed on them by Virginia 
troops, who had been stationed there some 
time before. Cornwallis manned these bat- 
teries, and the main body of his army was en- 
camped around Yorktown, within a range of 
field works, raised for their defence. 

The communication between Yorktown 
and Gloucester Point, was defended by the 
batteries on shore, and by several British 
ships of war, which could ride in safety in 
the broad and deep York river. 

On the 25th of September, the last division 
of Washington’s army arrived at the landing 


184 


LIFE OF 


near William sburgh, on the Janies river. 
They were allowed two days for rest, and on 
the 28th, moved toward Yorktown. A de- 
tachment of French and American troops were 
directed to watch and restrain Tarlton, and 
the main body of ihe army was moved down 
on the south side of the York river towards 
Yorktown. The next day was employed in 
preparing for the siege. General Lafayette 
had joined Washington with the troops under 
his command. 

Washington displayed his military talent 
and sound judgment in directing every move- 
ment that was to be made, and the siege was 
carried on with great rapidity. 

When the places of defence which the 
English had raised at some distance from the 
town were destroyed, and they were driven 
back to seek for safety within the intrench- 
ments which they had formed immediately 
around it, Cornwallis finding himself so closely 
pressed resolved to attempt escaping; and 
during the night, he succeeded in sending se- 
veral boats filled with troops across the York 
river to Gloucester Point; but when these 
troops were landed, a violent storm suddenly 
arose, and drove the boats down the stream ; 
daylight began to dawn before they could be 
recovered, and then it was necessary to use 
them for the return of the few troops which 
had been landed, as it was impossible to send 
the rest of the army by the light of day, which 


WASHINGTON. 185 

would show the movement to those Americans 
who were posted near Gloucester. 

Being thus disappointed, and not having 
any reasonable cause for even a hope that he 
could save his army, Cornwallis wrote to 
General Washington to request that all hosti- 
lities might cease for twenty-four hours, during 
which time he would inform him on what 
terms he would surrender. Washington in- 
formed him that it was his ardent desire to 
spare the shedding of blood, and that he 
would listen with readiness to such terms as 
could be accepted ; but requested that they 
might be made known immediately in writing, 
as he could quickly determine if he would 
agree to them. 

Some of the proposals of Cornwallis, Wash- 
ington could not consent to, and he wrote 
down the terms on which he expected him to 
surrender, and said he would not change them. 
These terms were ; that all the army, with 
their arms and military stores, and all the ships 
and seamen, were to be delivered up. The 
troops to be prisoners of war to Congress, 
and the naval force to the French. The sol- 
diers were to remain, with a few officers, in 
America ; and the rest of the officers, were to be 
permitted to return to Europe on parole, or 
assurance from them that they would not 
serve again against the Americans. Corn- 
wallis was to be allowed to send a ship un- 
searched to New York, to carry any papers 
Q 2 


186 


LIFE OF 


which he chose to send there. These terms 
were accepted by the English general, and on 
the 19th of October, in the year 1781, the 
whole army of Cornwallis, which had been 
for so long a time the cause of distress and 
terror in the southern states, marched out of 
Yorktown, as prisoners of war. General Lin- 
coln was appointed by General Washington 
to receive the submission of the conquered 
army, in the same manner in which Corn- 
wallis had received his, and that of the Ame- 
rican army, on the 12th of May, 1780, at 
Charleston. 

While the troops of Cornwallis were march- 
ing out of the town, with cased colours and 
drums beating the sad sound of defeat, Wash- 
ington said to his troops, “ My brave fellows, let 
no sensation of satisfaction for the triumph 
you have gained, induce you to insult a fallen 
enemy ; — let no shouting — no clamourous huz- 
zaing, increase their mortification. It is a 
sufficient satisfaction to us, that we witness 
their humiliation. Posterity will huzza for 
us !” 

On the day after the surrender, he ordered 
that all who were under arrest should be set 
at liberty, and he closed his order with the di- 
rection — “ Divine service shall be performed 
to-morrow in the different divisions of the ar- 
my ; and the commander-in-chief recommends 
that all the troops that are not upon duty do as- 
sist at it, with a serious deportment, and that 


WASHINGTON. 


187 


sensibility of heart, which the recollection of 
the surprising and particular interposition of 
Divine Providence in our favour, claims.” 

The capture of a formidable army, which 
had been moving with destructive power over 
more than eleven hundred miles of their coun- 
try, was to the Americans a cause of heartfelt 
joy and thankfulness. The news was received 
at Philadelphia, then the seat of government, 
at night, and an. aged watchman, who heard it, 
in the gladness of his heart, as he walked his 
round with a quick step, sung out, “ Past one 
o’clock — and Cornwallis is taken !” 

Congress heard the tidings with grateful 
sensations, and went in solemn procession to 
a place of worship, to return thanks to God 
for this deliverance from powerful foes ; they 
also issued a proclamation, for “religiously 
observing through the United States the 13th 
day of December, as a day of thanksgiving 
and prayer.” 


CHAPTER IX. 
1781—1787. 


When General Washington had performed 
all the duties which the surrender of Cornwal- 


188 


LIFE OF 


lis rendered necessary, before he could leave 
Yorktown, he went to visit his respected and 
aged mother, whom he had not seen for more 
than six years. At the commencement of the 
war he had removed her to the village of Fre- 
dericksburg, where- he thought she would be 
comfortable, and distant from danger; and 
from that time he had not been at liberty to 
visit his native state, as his services were re- 
quired by his country every day, and indeed 
every moment. He was careful to send con- 
stantly to his parent, an account of himself 
and the situation of public affairs, and she re- 
ceived all such intelligence with a confidence 
in the wisdom of God, which prevented her 
being depressed by the news of losses that fre- 
quently reached her ears. When she heard 
of the success of her son in the December of 
1777, (when he crossed the Delaware and 
marched to Princeton,) she said, “ George 
appears to have deserved well of his coun- 
try and, when her neighbours pressed 
around her with letters that they had received, 
full of his praises, she said, “ Here is too much 
flattery ; — still George will not forget the les-« 
sons I early taught him ; — he will not forget 
himself though he is the subject of so much 
praise.” 

Washington knew that it would be no gra- 
tification to his good mother to see him sur- 
rounded by attendants, or to have his approach 
made known by any kind of parade. He 


WASHINGTON. 


189 


therefore left the officers who rode with him, 
and dismounting from his horse, alone, and 
on foot, he went to her residence. When he 
entered it he found her usefully employed. 
As she embraced her son, she called him by 
an endearing name, which he well remember- 
ed she had always used when in his child- 
hood he deserved her approbation. She 
anxiously questioned him on the state of his 
health, talked of old times and old friends, 
but spoke not a word on the subject of his re- 
nown, or of the praise which his countrymen 
were giving him for his noble conduct. 

When he left his revered parent, he went to 
his long forsaken home. Mrs. Washington 
was then there. She had been with him 
through each winter, and, as she said, had 
“ heard the first cannon on the opening, and 
the last at the close of every campaign of the 
war.” 

When Washington was favoured with some 
success in any undertaking, he did not become 
less diligent in his efforts to complete it, and 
he wrote to General Greene, “ I shall endea- 
vour to stimulate Congress to the best im- 
provement of our late success, by taking the 
most vigorous and effectual measures to be 
ready for an early and decisive campaign the 
next year.” 

He went to Philadelphia, and was success- 
ful in his wishes. In December, 1782', Con- 
gress passed resolutions which satisfied him, 


190 


LIFE OF 


and he wrote to the different states to urge a 
faithful compliance with these resolutions. 
The army was placed in winter quarters, and 
Washington became anxiously engaged in 
preparations for the duties of the spring. 

At the commencement of the year 1782, 
there was not a dollar in the public treasury, 
and, from the delay in collecting the taxes, 
Washington knew that there could be no hope 
of a supply for several months. Mr. Robert 
Morris, the officer who superintended this bu- 
siness, wrote in great distress to Washington, 
and said, “ This candid state of my situation 
and feelings 1 give to your bosom, because 
you, who have already felt and suffered so 
much, will be able to sympathize with me.” 

While Washington was using every effort 
to hasten the collection of the money which 
would be necessary for the subsistence of his 
army, an account came from England that a 
proposal had been made in Parliament to 
make offers of peace. Washington had little 
confidence in the probability of this proposi- 
tion being agreed to by the English govern- 
ment, and he endeavoured to prevent hi 
countrymen being deceived into security by a 
false expectation. Early in May, however, 
an English commander, Sir Guy Carlton, ar- 
rived in New York, and wrote to Gen. Wash- 
ington and to Congress, that Parliament had 
determined on offering to conclude a peace, or 
truce, with the revolted colonies of North 


WASHINGTON. 


191 


America ; but, as no intimation was given that 
he had the power to propose any other terms 
than those which had been before rejected, 
Congress declined giving him a passport for 
himself and Admiral Digby, who, he inform- 
ed Congress, were appointed to make known 
to them, in person, the resolutions of Parlia 
ment. 

In August Sir Guy Carlton gave Washing- 
ton the information that Parliament had sent 
a minister to Paris, who had the power to 
treat with all the parties at war, and that pro- 
posals for a general peace were then under 
consideration ; and that the minister had been 
directed to offer, in the first place, that the in- 
dependence of the “ Thirteen Provinces” 
should be acknowledged. 

The American commissioners, John Adams, 
Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry 
Laurens, who were in Paris, received the 
proposals for peace, and formed a treaty which 
satisfied every reasonable demand of America. 
This was signed on the 30th November, 1782, 
but it was not to be considered as entirely 
concluded, until a treaty should be formed be- 
tween England and France, which was done' 
on the 20th January, 1783. 

When the American army had the expecta- 
tion of soon being dismissed from service, they 
became anxious about the pay that was due 
to them, and which it was absolutely necessa- 
ry they should receive, to enable them to re- 


192 


LIFE OF 


turn to their families. A very artful address 
was circulated through the camp on the Hud- 
son river, for the purpose of inducing them to 
form some desperate resolutions to force the 
government to a compliance with their demand 
for payment. The address was accompanied 
by an invitation to all the officers to meet on 
the next day, and take the subject into consi- 
deration. Washington was in camp, and his 
firmness and judgment did not forsake him on 
this important occasion. In his general or- 
ders he noticed the address, and expressed 
his belief that the good sense of the officers 
would prevent their “ paying any attention to 
such an irregular invitation,” but invited them 
to meet on another day, when, he said, they 
could deliberate on what course they ought to 
pursue. 

Before that day arrived he conversed sepa- 
rately with the officers, and used his influence 
to lead them to adopt measures which he in- 
tended to propose. When they were assem- 
bled, he addressed them in a calm and affec- 
tionate manner ; entreating them to disregard 
the efforts that were made to induce them to act 
disgracefully, and assuring them* of his confi- 
dence that Congress would treat them justly. 

This address from one whom they loved 
and had been accustomed to obey, — in whose 
judgment and affection they had perfect confi- 
dence, could not fail to influence the army, 
and the officers immediately formed resolu- 


WASHINGTON. 


193 


tions which satisfied their anxious comman- 
der, and proved the strength of their respect 
for his advice. It has been said that “ per- 
haps, in no instance, did the United States re- 
ceive from heaven a more signal deliverance 
through the hands of Washington, than in the 
termination of this serious transaction.” His 
conduct gave a new proof of the kindness of 
his heart, soundness of his judgment, and pu- 
rity of the love of his country. He wrote to 
Congress an account of what had occurred ; 
and earnestly entreated that the just demands 
of the army might be immediately attended to, 
and that provision might be made for a fur- 
ther compensation than a mere pay which was 
due to the officers. He said, “ if (as has been 
suggested for the purpose of inflaming their 
passions,) the officers of the army are to be 
the only sufferers by this revolution!; if retiring 
from the field they are to grow old in poverty, 
wretchedness and contempt, and owe the mi- 
serable remnant of that life to charity, which 
has hitherto been spent in honour, then shall 
I have learned what ingratitude is ; then shall 
I have realized a tale which will imbitter every 
moment of my future life.” 

Congress received a petition from the offi- 
cers, and then formed a resolution, that in ad- 
dition to the pay due to them, they should 
receive full pay for five years; but they knew 
it would be some time before the money could 
be raised. The officers were satisfied with 
R 


194 


LIFE OF 


the promise, and in the course of the summer 
a large portion of the troops returned to their 
homes. 

A few new recruits, who were stationed at 
Lancaster, marched to Philadelphia and placed 
sentinels at the doors of the State House, 
where Congress were sitting, and threatened 
to attack them if their demands for pay were 
not granted within twenty minutes. They 
did not perform their threat, but kept Con- 
gress prisoners for three hours. 

When General Washington heard of this 
outrage, he sent fifteen hundred men to quell 
the mutineers, but this had been done without 
any blood being shed before the troops arrived. 
He wrote to Congress that he felt much dis- 
tressed on hearing of the insult which had 
been offered by these “ soldiers of a day 
and contrasted their conduct with that of the 
soldiers who had “borne the heat and burden 
of the war ; veterans,” he said, “ who have 
patiently endured nakedness, hunger and cold ; 
who have suffered and bled without a murmur, 
and who, with perfect good order have retired 
to their homes without a settlement of their 
accounts, or a farthing of money in their pock- 
ets. We are as much astonished at the virtues 
of the latter, as we are struck with horror and 
detestation at the proceedings of the former.” 
In consequence of the insult, Congress ad- 
journed, to meet at Princeton, in New Jersey, 
in the close of the month of June, 1783 . They 


WASHINGTON. 


195 


sat there in the Library room of the College, 
for about three months ; and then adjourned to 
meet at Annapolis, in Maryland. 

The seeds of freedom which had been sown 
in weakness, and guarded with toil through 
eight years, produced a rich harvest in the 
blessings of independence and peace , which 
spread quickly over the United States ; and 
every American heart had cause to say, with 
humble gratitude, to the Great Ruler of events, 
“O thou that savest by thy right hand them 
that put their trust in thee, from, those that 
rise up against therm — thou hast been our 
helper.” 

When General Washington had proclaimed 
to his army on the 19th of April, the tidings of 
a universal peace, he said, “ on such a happy 
day, which is the harbinger of peace ; a day 
which completes the eight years of the war, it 
would be ingratitude not to rejoice, it would be 
insensibility not to participate in the general 
felicity and he directed that the Chaplains, 
with their several brigades, should “ render 
thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, 
particularly for his overruling the wrath of man 
to his own glory ; and causing the rage of war 
to cease among the nations.” When he dis- 
missed the troops from service on the 2d of 
November, he gave them serious and affection- 
ate advice as to their future conduct ; and as- 
sured them that he should recommend them to 
their grateful country, and in his prayers “to the 


196 


LIFE OF 


God of armies.” Earnestly desiring- that his 
countrymen might secure a continuance of the 
favour of heaven, he wrote an address to the 
governors of the different states, which address 
he said he wished them to consider as “ the 
legacy of one who had ardently desired on all 
occasions to be useful to his country ; and who, 
even in the shade of retirement, would not 
fail to implore the divine benediction upon 
it.” The address contained important and 
wise counsel, and he concluded it with the 
assurance, “ I now make it my earnest prayer, 
that God would have you and the state over 
which you preside, in his holy protection, 
and that he would incline the hearts of the 
citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination, 
and obedience to government, and to entertain a 
brotherly affection and love for one another ; 
for their fellow citizens of the United States 
at large, and particularly for their brethren 
who have served in the field ; and finally, that 
he would be most graciously pleased to dis- 
pose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and 
to demean ourselves with that charity, hu- 
mility, and pacific temper of mind, * which 
were the characteristics of the Divine Au- 
thor of our blessed religion ; without an hum- 
ble imitation of whose example in these things 
we can never hope to be a happy nation.” 

In November all the English troops left 
New York, and General Washington entered 
it accompanied by Governor Clinton and a 


WASHINGTON. 


197 


number of American officers. Many Americans 
from distant places visited New York, to 
unite with their countrymen there in public 
expressions of joy ; one of this number was 
General Washington’s nephew, Bushrod 
Washington, then a youth, and afterwards an 
eminent and highly respected Judge, of the 
Supreme court of the United States. The 
following anecdote connected with that visit, 
he kindly communicated for this biography, 
in a letter dated Mount Vernon, June 1st 1829. 
“In the early part of the year 1782 I was sent 
by my father to Philadelphia, for the purpose 
of prosecuting the study of law. It was my 
good fortune to meet General Washington 
there. Within a few days after my arrival, 
but not until he had placed me in the office of 
Mr. Wilson, and secured for me the counte- 
nance and kind attention of some of his friends 
in that city, he returned to the state of New 
York. Upon that occasion, or at a subsequent 
period, (I cannot now recollect which,) he 
requested me to make inquiries respecting a 
kind of cloth which he particularly described, 
and wished to purchase, and to inform him 
by letter the price, and where it was to be 
procured. I readily promised an early com- 
pliance with this request, and intended, I doubt 
not, at the time, conscientiously to fulfil my 
engagement. I postponed doing so, however, 
from day to day, until the subject was for- 
gotten altogether ; or was too seldom thought 


198 


LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 


of, to leave more than a very slight impression 
upon my mind. About the time when the 
evacuation of New York, by the British troops 
was to be commemorated in that city, the Ge- 
neral wrote to me, giving me permission to be 
present on that occasion, and enclosing me 
money for my expenses. On my arrival in New 
York, I called athis lodgings, and was received 
by him with his former kindness. After some 
general conversation, he asked me if I had at- 
tended to his request respecting the cloth, and 
what had been the result of my inquiries ? 
My feelings, at that moment, may be imagined, 
— it is not in my power to describe them. I 
had no excuse to offer, and as soon as the 
power of speech was allowed me, I acknow- 
ledged my delinquency. Turning to me with 
a mildness which I did not deserve, but with 
an impressiveness in his manner which I have 
never forgotten, he observed, “ remember, 
young man, never in future to make a pro - 
mise , even of a trivial kind, the nature and 
extent of ivliich you have not duly considered ; 
having made it, let nothing prevent a punc- 
tual performance of it, if it be. within your 
power. 1 ’ He then dismissed me without an 
additional reproach or observation.” 

General Washington remained in New 
York, until December, and when the day ar- 
rived on which he had determined to leave it, 
the officers of the army assembled to bid him 
farewell. When their loved commander en- 


U-P 



200 


LIFE OF 





* 





WASHINGTON. 


201 


tered the room in which they were, he could 
not speak for several moments ; but, when he 
had calmed his strong feelings, he said “ with 
a heart, full of love and gratitude, I now take 
leave of you ; I most devoutly wish that your 
latter days may be as prosperous and happy 
as your former have been honourable. I can- 
not come to each of you to take my leave, but 
yshall be obliged to you if each of you will 
come and take me by the hand.” General 
Knox, who was nearest to him, turned, and 
Washington took his hand, and then put his 
arms around him, and in the same affection- 
ate manner embraced each officer. A tear 
from the heart filled every eye ; but no word 
could be uttered to break the silence of the 
affecting scene. Washington left the room, 
and the officers followed him in noiseless pro- 
cession, and with sad countenances to the 
boat which was to convey him away from 
them. Washington stepped into the boat, and 
turning towards the shore waved his hat with- 
out speaking ; the officers returned the same 
last farewell, and continued to gaze after their 
beloved commander until they could no lon- 
ger distinguish his form, and then they re- 
turned in sadness to the place where they had 
assembled. 

Washington could not enjoy rest until he 
had performed all the duties which his up- 
right mind dictated, and he proceeded to Phi- 
ladelphia to give an account of the manner in 


202 


LIFE OF 


which he had expended the public money. 
All his accounts were written by himself, and 
every entry made in the most exact manner, 
so as to give the least trouble in comparing 
them with the receipts which accompanied 
them. He made no charge for his services, 
but had spent a considerable portion of his 
own fortune. The regularity and minuteness 
with which he had kept an account of every 
sum - received and expended during eight 
years, and the faithfulness with which he had, 
in the midst of his many employments, at- 
tended to having the public money used in 
the most economical and advantageous man- 
ner, proved that he had a right to the noble 
title of an honest man . If he had not merited 
that, all his former titles would have been 
without value. From Philadelphia he pro- 
ceeded to Annapolis, where Congress was 
sitting, and there he proved that he was a pa- 
triot, by giving back the power which had 
been placed in his hands, when he could no 
longer use it for the benefit of his country. 
Congress appointed the 23d December for re- 
ceiving his resignation, and a crowd of specta- 
tors witnessed the interesting ceremony. He 
was received by Congress as the “ founder 
and guardian of the republic.” Feeling the 
importance of the blessings of freedom and 
peace which the Great Ruler of the universe 
had made Washington an agent to obtain for 
them, they looked at him, when about to re- 


WASHINGTON. 


203 


sign his power, with emotions of aomiration 
and gratitude ; and, recollecting how closely 
they had been connected with him in scenes 
of distress and danger, there were few eyes 
unwet with a tear. With unambitious dignity 
he rose and addressed General Mifflin, the 
President of Congress. He said, “ I resign 
with satisfaction the appointment I accepted 
with diffidence ; a diffidence in my abilities to 
accomplish so arduous a task, which, how- 
ever, was superseded by a confidence in the 
rectitude of our cause, the support of the su- 
preme power of the union and the patronage 
of heaven. The successful termination of the 
war has verified the most sanguine expecta- 
tions ; and my gratitude for the interposition 
of Providence, and the assistance I have re- 
ceived from my countrymen, increases with 
every review of the momentous contest. * * * 
I consider it as an indispensable duty to close 
this last act of my official life, by commending 
the interests of our dearest country to the pro- 
tection of Almighty God, and those who have 
the superintendence of them to his holy keep- 
ing. Having now finished the work assigned 
me, I retire from the great theatre of action, 
and bidding an affectionate farewell to this 
august body, under whose orders I have so 
long acted, I here offer my commission, and 
take my leave of all the employments of public 
life.” He then gave his commission to the 
President, who, when he had received it, an- 


204 


LIFE OF 


swered him in the name of Congress, and said, 
“ Having defended the standard of liberty in 
this new world : having taught a lesson useful 
to those who inflict, and to those who feel op- 
pression, you retire from the great theatre of 
action with the blessings of your fellow-citi- 
zens ; but the glory of your virtues will not 
terminate with your military command; it 
will continue to animate remotest ages. We 
join you in commending the interests of our 
dearest country to the protection of Almighty 
God, beseeching him to dispose the hearts and 
minds of its citizens to improve the opportu- 
nity afforded to them of becoming a happy 
and respectable nation. And for you, we ad- 
dress to Him our earnest prayers, that a life 
so beloved may be fostered with all his care ; 
that your days may be as happy as they have 
been illustrious ; and that he will finally give 
you that reward which this word cannot give.” 

History presents no more elevated scene 
than that of a successful hero, at the close of a 
long war, giving up his command, and a na- 
tion, just having achieved its independence, 
in the solemn act of dissolving its military 
state, all uniting in ascribing praise to that 
God whose kind Providence they had enjoy- 
ed, and commending each other to his protec- 
tion in time, and his favour throughout eter- 
nity. 

When Washington had thus resigned the 
title of “ Commander-in-chief,” he took that 


WASHINGTON. 


205 


of private citizen, and retired to his peaceful 
home. The satisfaction he felt in doing so 
was expressed in a letter to his friend, Lafay- 
ette, who had returned to France soon after 
the surrender of Cornwallis. Washington 
wrote to him, “ At length I have become a 
private citizen, on the banks of the Potomac, 
and under the shade of my ‘ own vine and my 
own fig-tree,’ and free from the bustle of a 
camp and the busy cares of public life. I have 
not only retired from all public employments, 
but am retiring within myself, and shall be 
able to view the solitary walk, and tread the 
paths of private life, with heartfelt satisfac- 
tion.*’ 

To General Knox he thus addressed him- 
self: — “I feel now, as I conceive a weary 
traveller must do, who, after treading many a 
painful step, with a heavy burden on his 
shoulders, is eased of the latter, having reach- 
ed the haven to which all the former were di- 
rected, — and from his house-top, in looking 
back and tracing with eager eye, the meanders 
by which he has escaped the quicksands and 
mires which lay in his way, and into which 
none but the all-powerful Guide and Dispenser 
of human events, could have prevented his 
falling.” 

For several months after his return home, 
he received, almost every day, addresses from 
all parts of the union, expressing the affection 
and gratitude of his countrymen. He deserved 
S 


206 


LIFE OF 


this, and no doubt was gratified by it ; but the 
praise of man bad no ill effect on his modest 
mind. For a little time, when be awoke in 
the morning, he would forget that he was in 
his peaceful home, and, as he had been ac- 
customed to do, would begin to think of what 
orders he should give his army, or what pub- 
lic business he should transact during the day ; 
but he soon interested himself in the cultiva- 
tion of his farm, and in assisting his neigh- 
bours to improve theirs ; and for this purpose 
he wrote to England to obtain the best infor- 
mation of all the improvements which were 
discovered there in agriculture. 

When the English ceased to act as enemies 
of his country, Washington did not cherish 
against them feelings of resentment. His libe- 
ral mind was willing to acknowledge their na- 
tional greatness and usefulness, and his heart 
was one that could estimate the virtues of 
those individuals of the nation who have de- 
voted their lives to the promotion of the tem- 
poral and eternal interests of their fellow be- 
ings. 

He travelled for a short time through those 
parts of his country with which he was unac- 
quainted, and, on his return, said he had new 
cause for acknowledging “ the goodness of 
that Providence which has dealt his favours 
to us with so profuse a hand.” He was de- 
sirous that these gracious gifts should not be 
neglected, and he formed plans for improving 


WASHINGTON. 


207 


the navigation of some of the extensive rivers 
which flow through this country. He said he 
considered the extension of inland navigation 
as “ an effectual means of cementing the union 
of the states.” His plan was that the naviga- 
tion of the eastern waters should be extended, 
and communicate with the western ; that these 
again should be opened from the Ohio to Lake 
Erie. Since his death his design has been ex- 
tensively executed, and, by its constantly in- 
creasing advantages, proving the excellence 
of his foresight and wisdom. He succeeded 
in having two companies formed for improving 
the James and Potomac rivers. On this occa- 
sion the legislature of Virginia subscribed for 
the same number of shares for Washington, 
in each company, that were to be taken for 
the state ; but, when informed of this, he as- 
sured them that he must decline accepting it, 
as he had determined never to change the re- 
solution he had formed when he entered into 
public service, “to shut his hand against 
every pecuniary recompense but he pro- 
posed to the legislature that the shares intend- 
ed for him should be given to some public in- 
stitution, and they were given to two schools ; 
one of which was near the Potomac, and the 
other near James river. 

General Lafayette again crossed the ocean, 
and visited Mount Vernon, and no doubt 
passed some interesting hours with his friend 
Washington. But those hours of social enjoy- 


208 


LIFE OF 


ment were few, for these friends were soon 
again engaged in public scenes and cares. Be- 
fore Lafayette returned to France he visited 
the mother of Washington, to bid her farewell 
and ask her blessing. She received him kind- 
ly, and talked with him of the happy pros- 
pects of her country, and of the conduct of 
her virtuous son, whom Lafayette praised with 
the warmth of strong attachment. 

She listened calmly to him, and then re- 
plied, “ I am not surprised at what George 
has done , for he was always a very good 
boy." 

On leaving this venerable woman, Lafayette 
asked and received her blessing, and bade her 
a last farewell. When he took leave of his 
friend, he indulged a lively hope that they 
would once more meet; but when again he 
visited America, he was received as the “Na- 
tion’s Guest,” and, instead of being welcomed 
to Mount Vernon by the smiles of Washing- 
ton, he was led to his tomb to shed tears of 
sorrow. 

Desiring anxiously that his native country 
should be freed from the tyrannical govern- 
ment which oppressed it, Lafayette felt a deep 
interest in the revolution which soon com- 
menced in France ; but his heart must have 
been pained by the manner in which it was 
conducted. In the attempt to throw off the 
oppression of man, the restraints of morality 
were cast away, and the human passions raged 


WASHINGTON. 


209 


uncontrolled. The consequences were dread- 
ful ; the tenderest ties of nature were disre- 
garded, — the truths of religion were denied, 
and the worship of God abolished. So that 
whilst this country, which looked to the Di- 
vine blessing for liberty, received it, France 
has ever since that time been unsettled and 
unhappy, and often the scene of civil war and 
bloodshed. 

Young Americans ! as you grow up to man- 
hood, and enjoy the great blessing of freedom 
from all unjust and oppressive laws of man, 
beware of wishing to be free from the just and 
righteous laws of your Creator, lest you bring 
upon yourselves as a nation, the displeasure of 
him whose “ kingdom is an everlasting king- 
dom,” and whose “dominion endureth through- 
out all generations.” To those who will not 
obey him, he has said, “ I will bring evil upon 
this people, even the fruit of their thoughts, 
because they have not hearkened unto my 
word, nor to my law, but have rejected it.” 
While you are exercising what you call li- 
berty of conscience, remember the assurance 
of him who “ taught as one having authority :” 
“If ye continue in my word ye shall know 
the truth, and the truth shall make you free ; 
verily, verily, I say unto you, whosoever com- 
mitteth sin is the servant of sin.” If Christ 
“ shall make you frfte, ye shall be free in- 
deed.” s 2 


210 


LIFE OF 


CHAPTER X. 

1787—1789. 

After the Americans obtained indepen- 
dence, those who thought wisely on public af- 
fairs were soon convinced that the “ Articles 
of Confederation,” which had united the states 
in time of war, would not bind them together 
in harmony under one government in time of 
peace. 

Congress had borrowed money from the 
French nation during the war, and they were 
also in debt to the officers of the army, and to 
other Americans ; and were unable to pay even 
the interest of the money due, because they 
did not possess the power to tax the people, 
or to lay duties on imported goods. 

The advice of Washington at the close of 
the war had been too soon forgotten. He had 
said then to his countrymen, “ The path of 
duty is plain before us. Let us as a nation be 
just ; let us fulfil the public contracts, which 
Congress had undoubtedly a right to make for 
the purpose of carrying on the war, with the 
same good faith we suppose ourselves bound 
to perform our private engagements.” 

From his retirement he watched with inte- 
rest the conduct of his countrymen, and began 
to feel alarmed lest they should disgrace them- 
selves as a nation. He corresponded on the 


WASHINGTON. 


211 


subject with the wise American patriots, who 
used all their influence to convince the people 
that it was necessary for the credit and pros- 
perity of their country, to give more power to 
Congress and to strengthen the bond of union. 
There was a great variety of opinions on the 
subject, but at length all the states, except 
Rhode Island, agreed to choose members for a 
convention to plan a better form of national 
government. Virginia placed Washington first 
on the list of members. 

On the second Monday in May, 1787, the 
Convention met at Philadelphia, and chose 
Washington its president; and, after long and 
serious consultation on the important subject, 
that Constitution was formed under which, by 
the favour of a gracious Providence, the United 
States have become so prosperous, and the 
American nation so happy and respectable. 
The opinions of the members of the Conven- 
tion seemed to be so opposed to each other on " 
some points, that it was feared they could 
agree on no plan that would suit the whole 
country. The debate was increasing in warmth, 
when Dr. Franklin, with his accustomed wis- 
dom and coolness, endeavoured to promote 
harmony by proposing an adjournment for 
three days, that there might be time for seri- 
ous consideration of the subject. He con- 
cluded his speech to the following effect : — 

“ The small progress we have made, after 
four or five weeks close attendance and conti- 


212 


LIFE OF 


nued reasoning with each other, our different 
sentiments on almost every question, several 
of the last producing as many noes as ayes , 
is, methinfis, a melancholy proof of the im- 
perfection of the human understanding. We, 
indeed, seem to feel our want of political wis- 
dom, since we have been running all about in 
search of it. We have gone back to ancient 
history for models of government, and exa- 
mined the different forms of those republics 
which, having been originally formed with the 
seeds of their own dissolution, now no longer 
exist : and we have viewed modern states all 
round Europe, but find none of their constitu- 
tions suitable to our circumstances. 

“In this situation of this assembly, groping 
as it were in the dark to find political truth, and 
scarcely able to distinguish it when presented 
to us, how has it happened, sir, that we have 
not hitherto once thought of humbly applying 
to the Father of Light to illuminate our under- 
standings ? — In the beginning of the contest 
with Britain, when we were sensible of dan- 
ger, we had daily prayers in this room for 
Divine protection. Our prayers, sir, were 
heard ; — and they were graciously answered. 
All of us, who were engaged in the struggle, 
must have observed frequent instances of a 
superintending Providence in our favour. To 
that kind Providence we owe this happy op- 
portunity of consulting in peace on the means 
of establishing our future and national felicity. 


WASHINGTON. 


213 


And have we now forgotten that powerful 
Friend? Or do we imagine we no longer 
need his assistance ? I have lived, sir, a long 
time ; and the longer I live, the more con- 
vincing proofs I see of this truth, that God 
governs in the affairs of men . And if a spar- 
row cannot fall to the ground without his no- 
tice, is it probable that an empire can rise 
without his aid ? — We have been assured, sir, 
in the sacred writings, that “except the Lord 
build the house, they labour in vain that build 
it.” I firmly believe this ; and I also believe, 
that without his concurring aid, we shall suc- 
ceed in this political building no better than 
the builders of Babel : we shall be divided by 
our little, partial, local interests ; our projects 
will be confounded ; and we ourselves shall 
become a reproach and a by-word down to 
future ages. And, what is worse, mankind 
may hereafter, from this unfortunate instance, 
despair of establishing government by human 
wisdom, and leave it to chance, war, and con- 
quest. I therefore beg leave to move, 

“ That henceforth prayers, imploring the 
assistance of Heaven, and its blessing on 
our deliberations, be made in this assembly 
every morning before we proceed to business ; 
and that one or more of the clergy of this city 
be requested to officiate in that service.” 

One member only opposed this motion, and 
a person who was present relates, that whilst 
he was making his objections, Washington 


214 


LIFE OF 


fixed his eye upon him with an expression of 
mingled surprise and indignation. No one 
condescended to notice the opposition, and 
the proposal was at once carried by the votes 
of all the other members. The adjournment, 
also, according to his suggestion, took plabe, 
and, after the Convention had been opened 
with prayer, when they met again,' Dr. Frank- 
lin stated the necessity and equity of mutual 
concessions from all parts of the Union. His 
views were adopted, and the important busi- 
ness, on which they were so warm when they 
separated, was soon despatched, and the whole 
constitution at length agreed to. The people 
have preserved this, their own chosen consti- 
tution, for forty years, and have seen their 
happiness, prosperity and renown, grow with 
its growth, and strengthen with its strength. 
How firmly should every American delight to 
cherish a union which has been so blessed 
by the God of nations, and ardently desire 
that “ the llag of the republic, now known 
and honoured throughout the earth, may con- 
tinue to float over the sea and over the land, 
without one stripe erased or polluted, or a sin- 
gle star obscured.” 

The constitution was signed by the dele- 
gates from twelve states; on the 17th Septem- 
ber, 1787, and, when made known to the 
people, they were of one opinion, that Wash- 
ington was the man most worthy to be the 
President of the United States. One of his 


WASHINGTON. 


215 


friends, Colonel Lee, who had an opportunity 
of hearing the wishes which were universally 
expressed by his countrymen, wrote to Wash- 
ington, to entreat that he would not suffer his 
love of private life to prevent his consenting 
to engage again in public duties ; and added, 
“ If the same success should attend your ef- 
forts on this important occasion which has dis- 
tinguished you hitherto, then to be sure you 
will have spent a life which Providence rare- 
ly, if ever, gave to the lot of one man.” 

Elections were held throughout the United 
States, and, when the votes were opened and 
counted in the Senate, it was found that Wash- 
ington was unanimously elected. 

On the 14th April, 1789, the fifty-seventh 
year of his age, Congress informed him of his 
appointment, and he accepted it, because it 
was the call of his countrymen to serve them. 
On this occasion he wrote to one of his friends 
his sentiments on this subject, which showed 
the dignity and modesty of his character ; he 
said, “ I am unwilling in the evening of a 
life, nearly consumed in public cares, to quit 
a peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, 
without the competency of political skill, abili- 
ties, and inclination, which are necessary to 
manage the helm. I am sensible that I am 
embarking the voice of the people and a good 
name of my own, on this voyage ; but what 
returns will be made for them, Heaven alone 
can foretell, — integrity and firmness are all I 


216 


LIFE OF 


can promise ; these, be the voyage long or 
short, shall never forsake me, although I may 
be deserted by all men ; for of the consolations 
which are to be derived from these, under 
any circumstances, the world cannot deprive 
me.” 

He visited his respected mother to inform 
her of his appointment. He had endeavoured 
to prevail on her to make Mount Vernon the 
home of her latter years ; but she would not 
consent to leave her humble dwelling, which 
was particularly dear to her from having near 
it a rural spot, made private by surrounding 
rocks and trees, where she daily offered to 
her Creator her confessiQns and prayers. 
When her son told her he must bid her fare- 
well, he said, “As soon as the weight of pub- 
lic business, which must necessarily attend 
the outset of a new government, can be dis- 
posed of, I shall return to Virginia, and” — 
“You will see me no more,” said his mother, 
interrupting him, “My great age warns me, 
that I shall not be long in this world, — I trust 
in God that I may be somewhat prepared for 
a better. Go, George, go my son ! and per- 
form your duties, and may the blessing of 
God, and that of a mother, be with you al- 
ways.” She cast her arms around his neck, 
and resting his head on the shoulder of his 
aged parent, the truly great man shed tears 
of filial tenderness. 

He parted from her with the sad feeling, 


WASHINGTON. 


217 


that he should indeed see her no more, and 
in a short time, her eighty-five years of 
life closed in death. She was buried near 
Fredericksburgh. Over her grave, a gentle- 
man of New-York has lately placed a noble 
monument, on which is only this inscription : 

M ARY, 

THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON. 

In the middle of April, Washington was 
called by duty to bid farewell to his farm. He 
set off for New York, the seat of government, 
and in the journal, which it was his custom 
to keep, he wrote at the close of that day, 
thus: “About ten o’clock I bade adieu to 
Mount Vernon, to private life, and to domes- 
tic felicity, and with a mind oppressed with 
more anxious and painful sensations than I 
have words to express, set out for New York, 

- — with the best dispositions to render service 
to my country in obedience to its call, but 
with less hope of answering its expectations.” 

His neighbours and the citizens of Alexan- 
dria assembled, and met him on the road to 
attend him to that place, where they invited 
him to eat a parting dinner with them. When 
he was leaving them to proceed on his jour- 
ney, they said in their affectionate address to 
him, “ Again your country commands your 
care. The first, the best of citizens, must 
T 


218 


LIFE OF 


leave us. Our aged must lose their orna 
ment, — our youth, their model, — our agricul 
ture, its improver, — our commerce, its friend, 
— our academy, its protector, — our poor, theii 
benefactor. Farewell ! Go, and make a 
grateful people happy. — To that Being, who 
maketh and unmaketh at his will, we com- 
mend you ; and after the accomplishment of 
the arduous business to which you are called, 
may he restore to us again the best of men, 
and the most beloved fellow-citizen.” 

After thanking them for their expressions 
of kindness, Washington said, in reply, — 
“The whole tenor of my life has been open 
to your inspection ; and my past actions, ra- 
ther than my present declarations, must be the 
pledge of my future conduct. All that now 
remains for me, is to commit myself and you 
to the protection of that beneficent Being, 
who on a former occasion* hath happily 
brought us together, after a long and distress- 
ing separation. Perhaps the same gracious 
Providence will again indulge me. Unuttera- 
ble sensations must then be left to more ex- 
pressive silence ; while from an aching heart 
I bid you all, my affectionate friends and kind 
neighbours, farewell.” 

He wished his journey to be private ; but 
preparations were made in every town and 
village through which he was to pass, to give 
him proofs of the gratitude of his countrymen 
for his past services, and of their confidence, 


WASHINGTON. 219 

that his future ones would be blessings to 
them. 

Philadelphia was illuminated, and the next 
day he was welcomed to Trenton with joy. 
On the bridge over the Assumpinck Creek, an 
arch had been erected, and ornamented with 
laurels and flowers, and it was supported by 
thirteen pillars, entwined with wreaths .of 
evergreen. On the front of the arch was in- 
scribed, in large letters, the date of the first 
battle of Trenton, and of the day on which the 
American troops had made a bold stand on the 
borders of the Assumpinck, by which the pro- 
gress of the English army had been stopped. 
Under this was written, “ The defender of 
the mothers will be the protector of the daugh- 
ters.” As he left his carriage to walk over 
the bridge, a company of young girls went be- 
fore him, and strewed fresh flowers in his 
path. 

At Elizabethtown a committee from Con- 
gress received him, and conducted him to the 
Point, where he entered a handsome boat, that 
had been prepared to convey him to New 
York. 

His return to that city was not in silence, 
as his departure from it had been ; and in his 
journal he remarked, that the decorations of 
the ships, the music in the boats, the roar of 
the cannon, and the acclamations of the peo- 
ple, filled him with sensations not more pleas- 
ing than painful, as he thought how changed 


220 


LIFE OF 


the scene might be “ after all his labours to 
do good.” 

The 30th day of April was appointed for 
taking the solemn oath with which the consti- 
tution requires the president to commence the 
duties of his important office. In the morning 
of that day, the clergymen of the city met 
their congregations, to unite in offering pray- 
ers to God for his blessing on the people, and 
the president whom they had chosen. 

The oath was administered by R. R. Liv- 
ingston, Chancellor of the state of New York, 
and the interesting ceremony was witnessed 
by a great concourse of people, for it was per- 
formed in an open gallery adjoining the senate 
chamber, and fronting Broad street. All stood 
in solemn silence, until the oath was taken, 
and then, when the Chancellor proclaimed that 
George Washington was the president of 
the United States, a shout of joy burst 
from many thousands of grateful and affec- 
tionate hearts. The president went into the 
senate chamber, and in a modest but dignified 
manner, addressed the senate and house of re- 
presentatives. 

In the course of his address he said, “ It 
will be peculiarly improper to omit, in this 
first official act, my fervent supplications to 
that Almighty Being, who rules over the uni- 
verse, — who presides in the councils of na- 
tions, and whose providential aid can supply 
every human defect, — that his benediction 


WASHINGTON. 


221 


may consecrate to the liberties and happiness 
of the people of the United States, a govern- 
ment instituted by themselves for these essen- 
tial purposes, — and may enable every instru- 
ment employed in its administration to execute 
with success the functions allotted to his 
charge. In tendering this homage to the great 
Author ef every public and private good, I 
assure myself that it expresses your senti- 
ments not less than my own ; nor those of 
my fellow-citizens at large, less than either. 
No people can be bound to acknowledge and 
adore the invisible hand which conducts the 
affairs of men, more than the people of the 
United States. Every step by which they 
have advanced to the character of an indepen- 
dent nation, seems to have been distinguished 
by some token of providential agency.” 

In conclusion, he said, “ I shall take my 
present leave, but not without resorting once 
more to the benign Parent of the human race, 
in htimble supplication, that since he has been 
pleaded to favour the American people with 
opportunities for deliberating in perfect tran- 
quillity, and dispositions for deciding with 
unparalleled unanimity on a form of govern- 
ment for the security of their union and ad- 
vancement of their happiness ; so his divine 
blessing may be equally conspicuous, in the 
enlarged views, the temperate consultations, 
and wise measures, on which the success of 
this government must depend.” 

t 2 


222 


LIFE OF 


The Senate, in reply, expressed their high 
estimation of his wisdom and virtue, and said, 
“ All that remains is that we join in your fer- 
vent supplications for the blessing of Heaven 
on our country ; and that we add our own for 
the choicest of those blessings on the most 
beloved of her citizens.” The important cere- 
mony of that day was closed with divine wor- 
ship. 

When Washington entered on the public 
duties of his office, he did not forget that ju- 
dicious regulations were needful for the gov- 
ernment of his own household. He made 
rules for his family, which every member 
knew must not be disregarded. He directed 
that an account should be given to him every 
week of the money that was expended. He 
wished to entertain with generous hospitality 
all visiters whom it was proper to receive ; 
but he would not permit any needless expense. 
In making regulations for his family he re- 
membered the Sabbath ; he always attended 
a place of worship, and was not in the cus- 
tom of receiving any visiters, except Mr. 
Trumbull, who was then Speaker of Congress, 
and afterwards the Governor of Connecticut. 
He was in the habit of spending an hour with 
the President on every Sabbath evening, and 
was so regular in the time of his visit, that 
the servants, by looking at the clock, knew 
to a moment when to be ready to open the 
door to the “speaker’s bell,” as they called 


WASHINGTON. 


223 


the door bell on Sunday evening, because 
no other hand than his then rung it. 

The president did not return any visits, 
and appointed certain hours of two days in 
the week, for being visited by persons who 
had no business to transact with him. In the 
performance of his duties, the president set 
an example of punctuality, and by the strictest 
regard to it, in the smallest as well as the 
greatest concerns, gave a plain and excellent 
lesson on the value of time , and importance 
of truth. In making an appointment he 
named the exact time, that not one moment 
might be wasted in the idleness which uncer- 
tainty in this respect often occasions. All his 
promises were given with “ the lip of truth,” 
therefore he was punctual to a moment in 
performing them. He required punctuality 
in every member of his household, and was 
once heard to say, to a visiter, who had come 
late to dinner, “ Our cook never asks if the 
company has come, but if the hour has come.” 
He had fixed on a convenient hour for mem- 
bers of Congress and other invited guests to 
dine with him, and being careful to have the 
clock which stood in his entry exactly right, 
he allowed five minutes for the difference in 
clocks and watches, and after that time did 
not wait for any person. If some forgetful 
or lagging guest came after the time, the pre- 
sident usually made some such remark as 
11 We are too punctual for you.” When Con- 


224 


LIFE OF 


gress mat in Philadelphia, he appointed the 
hour of twelve for attending and delivering 
his speeches to them, and he always entered 
the state-house, where Congress sat, when 
the state-house clock was striking the hour. 
The lesson on punctuality, which the great 
Washington taught by his own practice, 
should be particularly attended to by the 
young. Their hours should be devoted to 
improvement, and dreadful is the waste, it 
they are spent in an improper manner. The 
sacred hours of the sabbath should be ac- 
counted particularly precious, and every op- 
portunity of instruction they afford should be 
attended to with care and punctuality. 


CHAPTER XI. 

1789—1796. 

All the important business attending the 
commencement of the new government was 
conducted with wisdom. When Congress 
adjourned, the president prepared to visit New 
England; on the 15th October he began his 
journey, and, passing through Connecticut 
and Massachusetts, went as far as Portsmouth, 
in New Hampshire ; returning by a different 


WASHINGTON. 


225 


route to New York. He had a favourable op- 
portunity for observing the improvements of 
the important portion of his country through 
which he travelled, and was in every place 
received with proofs of joy and attachment. 

At Cambridge, the governor and council of 
Massachusetts met him, and accompanied him 
to Boston ; the selectmen received him at the 
entrance of the town, and a procession of the 
inhabitants was formed, which extended to 
the state-house, and he noticed with satisfac- 
tion the children, who made a part of the pro- 
cession, conducted by their teachers. A tri- 
umphal arch was erected, and over it, on one 
side, was the inscription, “ To the man who 
unites all hearts and on the opposite side, 
“ To Columbia’s favourite son.’.’ 

The president returned to New York, and 
Congress again met on the 8th January, 1790. 
They passed several acts of importance, and 
then determined that the seat of government 
should be removed to Philadelphia. This 
session of Congress continued until the 12th 
August, when they adjourned. The health of 
the president had been injured by his close 
attention to public business, and he thought 
that a visit to Mount Yernon would refresh 
and strengthen him. He wished to travel as 
privately as possible, but, when he thought 
that he was approaching the villages without 
being noticed, the villagers were ready to give 
him some proof of a joyful welcome ; and 


226 


LIFE OF 


supposing the probable time for his return, 
the school children were promised by their 
teachers that they should see Washington, 
which they thought was a high reward for di- 
ligence. 

After a short indulgence in the enjoyment 
of rural sights and sounds, the president re- 
turned from Mount Vernon to meet Congress 
at Philadelphia. One important subject which 
engaged Congress at that session, was war 
with the Indians. 

As early as the year 1736, Moravian mis- 
sionaries, taking no weapon but “ the sword 
of the Spirit, which is the word of God,” vi- 
sited the Indians, and carried to them “ the 
glad tidings of great joy which shall be to all 
people.” They preached “ Jesus Christ and 
him crucified ;” and many of the wild rangers 
of the forest listened to the sound of the Gos- 
pel, and, with some of their most ferocious 
chieftains, submitted to its peaceful rules. All 
such formed settlements, cultivated the ground 
around them, and made spots in the wilder- 
ness to “ blossom like the rose.” One of 
those settlements in Pennsylvania was called 
Nain. A young Nanticoke Indian visited it, 
and remained there for a month; on being 
taken ill afterwards, he called two of his bro- 
thers to him, and said to them, “ in Nain they 
teach the right way to eternal life. There I 
have heard that our Creator became a man, 
died on the cross for our sins, was buried, 


WASHINGTON. 


227 


rose again, and went into heaven, and that 
whosoever believes in him shall not perish ; 
but, when he dies, shall live with him for 
ever. If you wish to hear these good words 
go to Nain.” He died, praying with his last 
breath for pardon, and his brothers both went 
to Nain to hear “ the good words” which he 
had received with faith and joy. Though the 
power of the Gospel was thus felt, and proved 
by the changed conduct of many of the In- , 
dians, yet their number was few compared 
with that of those who still roamed through 
the forests, and took advantage of every op- 
portunity for attacking the inhabitants of the 
frontiers. Washington being well acquainted 
with the cruel manner in which the Indians 
conducted their attacks, knew the sufferings 
to which his countrymen on the frontiers 
were exposed ; and as he was never satisfied 
with merely feeling a sympathy in the dis- 
tresses of his fellow-beings, he used every 
means in his power to relieve them. He ear- 
nestly recommended to Congress to endea- 
vour to form treaties with the Indians. He 
was “for peace,” but the Indians were “for 
war.” Troops were sent out against them, 
commanded by General Harmar, but these 
troops were defeated, in a battle near Cliili- 
cothe. Congress then gave the president the 
means of raising another army, and General 
Arthur St. Clair was appointed to the com- 
mand of it. 


228 


LIFE OF 


After the president had made all the neces- 
sary arrangements for recruiting the army, he 
paid a visit to the southern states, and in pass- 
ing through them, received the same proofs 
of grateful attachment as had been given to 
him in the northern and middle states. 

The senate and congress had given to him 
the power of choosing a spot on which should 
be built a city for a seat of government, and 
he stopped at the Potomac for some days, and 
marked the place on which the city of Wash- 
ington now stands. After his return from this 
journey, he said, in a letter to Mr. Gouver- 
neur Morris — “ In my late tour through the 
southern states, I experienced great satisfac- 
tion in seeing the good effects of the general 
government in that part of the Union. * * * 
Industry has there taken place of idleness, 
and economy of dissipation. Two or three 
years of good crops, and a ready market for 
the produce of their lands, have put every one 
in good humour ; and, in some instances, they 
even impute to the government what is due 
only to the goodness of Providence. 

In the December after his return, he heard 
the distressing intelligence of the total defeat 
of the army of General St. Clair, in an en- 
gagement with the Indians on the 4th of De- 
cember, near the Miami river, in the state of 
Ohio. 

When Washington heard of the destruction 
of the brave men and officers who fell in that 


WASHINGTON. 


229 


battle, he went into a private room with one 
of his family, and indulged for a few moments 
his feelings of distress. He walked the floor 
with his hand pressed to his forehead, and 
said, “ Here, in this very room, the night be- 
fore his departure, I warned St. Clair to be- 
ware of surprise ! and yet that brave army 
surprised and cut to pieces ! Butler and a 
host of others slain !” 

Washington’s feelings were naturally violent 
when excited, but quickly subdued by the 
firmness with which he practised self-control. 
And after a few moments, he said, in a calm 
voice, “ St. Clair shall have justice ; yes, 
long, faithful, and meritorious services shall 
have their claims.” 

When the distressed St. Clair, worn down 
with age and disease, returned and visited 
him, he grasped the hand of Washington, 
which was kindly extended to him, and sob- 
bed over it like a child. Many of the unde- 
served reproaches which were uttered against 
him, were silenced by the kind manner in 
which Washington continued to treat him. 

After Congress adjourned, the president 
made another effort to form treaties of peace 
with the Indians, but was not successful ; he 
then raised more troops, and the command 
of them was given to General Wayne, who 
soon succeeded in reducing the savage foe to 
a state of submission and peace. 

The rapidly increasing prosperity of the 
U 


230 


LIFE OF 


United States, was a proof of the wisdom with 
which the new government had been planned, 
and was conducted. The good effect of W ash- 
ington’s wisdom and virtue were so apparent, 
that when the four years for which he had 
been elected were passed, the people proved 
that they knew the value of his character, and 
he was unanimously re-elected. He earnestly 
wished to return to private life, and expressed 
to his friends his intention to do so ; but they 
convinced him that it was his duty not to in- 
dulge this wish ; the state of public affairs at 
that time, requiring all his firm virtue to pre- 
serve the government from being engaged 
in the contentions which were commencing 
between the nations of Europe. When he 
met Congress after his re-election, his speech 
on the state of public affairs was deeply in- 
teresting, and contained this expression of 
pious feelings : “ I humbly implore that Being 
on whose will the fate of nations depends, to 
crown with success our mutual endeavours 
for the general happiness.” 

The French revolution had commenced, 
and war was declared between England and 
France. Some Americans thought that their 
government ought to aid France against Eng- 
land, and the difference of opinion on this 
subject divided the people into two parties. 
But the president was not to be turned from 
his determination, to “ cultivate peace with 
all the world;” and immediately after his re- 


WASHINGTON. 


231 


election, he proclaimed that the American go- 
vernment would not take any part in the ge- 
neral war which had commenced. He thus 
secured for his country the rich blessing of 
peace ; and while war was raging amongst 
other nations, the Americans increased their 
trade, and sent large portions of their full har- 
vests to different parts of the world. 

The president was at times so much en- 
gaged that he could not allow himself time to 
take any other exercise than a walk to his 
watch maker’s, in Second Street, to regulate 
his watch by the time-piece. Mothers who 
felt the value of what he had done for their 
children, watched for the hour in which it 
was usual for him to pass, and then brought 
out their children to show Washington to 
them. When the boys in the streets saw him, 
they used to cry out, “ Here comes Washing- 
ton ! here comes Washington !” they seldom 
called him the president. Washington was a 
far dearer name ; and he usually increased 
their delight by noticing them with a kind 
smile, giving them his hand, or taking the lit- 
tle children up in his arms. When he could 
be absent from the city for a few hours with- 
out neglecting a duty, he enjoyed a visit to 
Judge Peters, at his home on the Schuylkill, 
a few miles distant from Philadelphia. In 
the cultivated ground there, he planted a nut, 
which has grown into a thriving chestnut tree, 
and is cherished with great care. He was 


232 


LIFE OF 


fond of riding on horseback, and one day in 
the winter, when the river Delaware was fro- 
zen, so that loaded sleds passed over it, he 
crossed into Jersey to enjoy a ride in the 
leafless woods. On his return, he found at 
Cooper’s ferry a farmer with a sled load of 
wood, just going on the ice. The president 
stopped his horse, to let the farmer pass on 
before him. But the farmer, who knew 
Washington, stopped also, and stepping up to 
him, said respectfully — “ Sir, do you think it 
is right for you to run the risk of riding across 
the river on the ice ?” “ Why, my friend,” 
said the president, “ I think if you can pass over 
with your sled load of wood without breaking 
through, I have no reason to be afraid.” “Ah,” 
replied the farmer, “if I and a dozen like me, 
should fall through and be drowned, we should 
hardly be missed ; but the country cannot do 
without you, Sir.” “ Well, go on first then,” 
said Washington, “ and I think if the ice does 
not break with your load and horses, I can 
then pass it without danger.” The farmer 
moved on without delay, being, no doubt, 
well pleased to serve Washington as a guide, 
and to watch for the preservation of a life he 
valued so highly. 

In 1794, the second year after Washing- 
ton’s election, he had. occasion to exercise his 
firmness in quelling an insurrection excited 
in the western parts of Pennsylvania by some 
unprincipled idlers. Americans had resisted 


WASHINGTON. 


23 .? 


with bravery and success, a foreign foe, but 
they had, and it is a sad truth, still have, an 
enemy in their homes, to which too many 
willingly submit, though by doing so they 
yield their right to the name of freemen ; for 
strong drink is a tyrant which chains the 
body in disgrace and poverty. It weakens 
the mind, and either destroys all recollection 
of the laws of God, or else causes a total dis- 
regard of them, and prepares the soul for 
everlasting punishment. Young Americans, 
this powerful foe is on every side of you, 
tempting you to become its slaves. Beware ! 
touch not, taste not strong drink , and when 
you see in others the evil effects of indulging 
in a love of it, let the bad example cause you 
sorrow, and prove a warning to you to begin 
hi youth a firm resistance to such an enemy. 
It was this foe to good order and morality, that 
caused the insurrection which has been men- 
tioned. Congress had laid a tax on spirits 
distilled within the United States, and some 
of the inhabitants of the western part of Penn- 
sylvania, not only refused to pay the tax, but 
treated with violence these who were appointed 
to collect it. The disgraceful example was 
followed by so many, that it became neces- 
sary for the president to notice it. He en- 
deavoured to make the rioters submit quietly 
to the laws, but when he found that they 
would not do so, he determined on sending 
against them a force which would be toopow- 


234 


LIFE OF 


erful for them to resist. By doing this he 
hoped to prevent any blood being shed. Troops 
were directed to assemble at Bedford, in 
Pennsylvania ; and at Cumberland, on the 
Potomac. Governor Lee, of Virginia, was 
appointed to command the expedition, and as 
the president had expected, the greatness of 
the force subdued, without shedding blood, 
the perverse spirit which had been raging. 

During this season, the cares of Washington 
were greater, perhaps, than at any other period 
of his administration. The British government 
had not given up their posts on the south side 
of the lakes, which they had agreed to do in 
the treaty of peace ; and the American govern- 
ment had violated the treaty, by passing some 
laws, which had prevented English subjects 
from recovering debts due to them in this 
country, 

Washington was just, and would not yield 
to the clamour which was raised against the 
English. He was of opinion, that “ peace 
ought to be pursued with unremitted zeal,” 
while every necessary preparation should be 
made for the preservation of national rights, 
in case war could not be avoided. In writing 
to a friend, after relating the various difficul- 
ties he had to contend with, he said, — “ There 
is but one straight course, and that is, to seek 
the truth and pursue it steadily.” 

He appointed an ambassador to the English 
government, for the purpose of endeavouring 


WASHINGTON. 


235 


to form a treaty. This ambassador was John 
Jay, who succeeded in forming a treaty, by 
which the English surrendered the posts on 
the south side of the lakes, and this enabled 
the president to protect the inhabitants of the 
frontiers from the Indians, and to promote 
the improvement and comfort of the Indians, 
for whom he was always interested. In 
recommending this subject to the attention 
of Congress, he said, that “ As Americans 
were more powerful and enlightened than the 
Indians, they ought to treat them with kind- 
ness and liberality.” 

While Washington was pursuing that course 
of conduct towards the English government, 
which he knew would promote the interests 
of his country, he was severely tried by the 
party spirit which was growing strong in the 
minds of his countrymen, and which encou- 
raged the French minister to behave in a very 
insolent manner towards the government. 
That minister, Mr. Genet, had arrived in 
Charleston in the year 1793, and he under- 
took to authorize the fitting out of armed ves- 
sels there, to capture the vessels of nations 
with whom the United States were at peace. 
An English merchant ship was also captured 
by a French privateer, within the capes of the 
Delaware, on her way from Philadelphia to 
the ocean. 

The British minister complained of this, 
and also of the conduct of Genet ; and the 


236 


LIFE OF 


council of the president unanimously agreed 
that restitution should be made for the capture 
of the English ship, and that Genet should 
not be permitted to act again, as he had done 
at Charleston. This displeased him greatly. 
He had engaged two Americans to cruise from 
that port ; they were arrested, and he demand- 
ed their release ; not only of the magistrate, 
but of the president, in a very insolent letter ; 
and, calculating on the support of the party in 
favour of France, he insulted the government, 
by appealing to the people against their presi- 
dent. 

Washington directed Mr. Morris, the Ame- 
rican minister, who was in France, to repre- 
sent the conduct of Genet to his government, 
and request that he should be recalled. The 
request was complied with; but the party 
feelings which had been excited, continued to 
increase, and caused Washington’s path to be 
a thorny one. But, difficult as it was, he pur- 
sued steadily the great end which he had al- 
ways in view, “ the best interests of his coun- 
ry.” 

While he was deeply engaged in public bu- 
siness, he heard intelligence which pained his 
heart. It was, that Lafayette had been driven 
from his native land, by the unprincipled men 
who were conducting the revolution there ; 
and that he had been seized in Prussia, and 
sent to Austria ; the emperor of which coun- 
try directed that he should be confined in a 


WASHINGTON. 


237 


dungeon, in the town of Olmutz. Washing- 
ton could not interfere for his release, except 
in the private character of his friend ; and he 
used every means in his power to obtain it, 
and wrote a letter to the emperor of Austria, 
requesting him to permit Lafayette to come to 
America, but his request was not granted. 

A young German, named Bolman, and a 
young American, named Huger, formed a 
plan for effecting the escape of Lafayette. He 
was sometimes permitted to leave his dun- 
geon, and walk for a short distance with a 
guard. One day Bolman and Huger watched 
for him, and had a horse ready, which Huger 
led suddenly up to him, and desired him to 
mount and escape ; the horse took fright and 
ran off, Bolman followed to endeavour to catch 
it, and Huger then insisted that Lafayette 
should mount his horse ; he did so, and was 
soon out of sight. Bolman could not overtake 
the affrighted horse, and he returned and took 
Huger behind him, and they followed Lafay- 
ette. 

The guard gave the alarm, and they were 
quickly pursued ; Huger was seized, but Bol- 
man at that time escaped. Lafayette was 
stopped, and brought back to Olmutz. 

Chained, hand and foot, Huger was carried 
before a judge, who told him that it was pro- 
bable his life would be the forfeit of his at- 
tempt to assist Lafayette to escape ; but that 
possibly the emperor would treat him with 


238 


LIFE OF 


clemency, on account of his youth and mo- 
tives. “ Clemency!” said Huger, “how can 
I expect it from a man who did not act even 
with justice to Lafayette ?” The judge said 
to him, “ If ever I need a friend, I hope that 
friend may be an American.” Huger suffered 
from a close imprisonment for some time, and 
was then allowed to return to his own coun- 
try. 

The efforts of Washington for the release 
of his friend, did not cease, and perhaps the 
letter which he wrote to the emperor had the 
effect of lessening the severity with which 
Lafayette had been treated, and of shortening 
the period of his captivity. His son, named 
George Washington, made his escape from 
France, and arrived at Boston. The president 
advised him to enter the University at Cam- 
bridge, and assured him that he would stand 
in the place of a father to him, and become 
his friend, protector , and supporter. 

When the time came for a third election of 
president, the people were again ready to 
unite in voting for Washington. But he firmly 
refused to be re-elected. He assured his coun- 
trymen that he did not do so from any want 
of respect for their past kindness, or from 
feeling less anxious for their future prosperi- 
ty ; — that he had twice yielded to their wishes, 
because he thought that it was his duty to do 
so, but felt that then the happy state of their 
concerns would permit his retiring to enjoy 


WASHINGTON. 


239 


the quiet of his own home. As his determina- 
tion was firm, they did not persist in opposing 
it, and he prepared to take again the character 
of a private citizen. 

In concluding his last speech to Congress, 
(for Washington made his annual communica- 
tions to Congress in a speech, instead of send- 
ing a written message, as his successors have 
done,) he said, “ I cannot omit the occasion 
to repeat my fervent supplications to the Su- 
preme Ruler of the universe and sovereign ar- 
biter of nations, that his providential care may 
still be extended to the United States; that 
the virtue and happiness of the people may 
be preserved, and that the government, which 
they have instituted for the protection of their 
liberties, may be perpetual.” 

He also published a farewell address to the 
people of the United States, which contains 
the most instructive, important, and interest- 
ing advice, that was ever given by man to any 
nation. It is long, and has been often pub- 
lished, and splendidly engraved, and all young 
Americans should read it with attention, and 
make a firm determination that they will en- 
deavour to follow the important and affec- 
tionate counsel, which the wise and virtuous 
Washington has left them as a legacy. He 
toiled through years of anxious cares to pro- 
mote the happiness of his countrymen, and 
knowing that “ sin is a disgrace to any peo- 
ple,” but that “ righteousness exalteth a na- 


240 


LIFE OF 


tion,” he earnestly entreated them to consider 
religion as the only lasting support of national 
prosperity. 

When the Americans were convinced that 
Washington would retire from office, they 
elected John Adams, who was one of the 
signers of the Declaration of Independence, 
and who had served as vice-president during 
the whole term of Washington’s presidency. 
Washington remained to offer his good wishes 
as a private citizen to the new president, and 
then immediately journeyed towards his home, 
which he was anxious to reach ; and, in a 
letter to a friend, he said, “ To the wearied 
traveller, who sees a resting place, and is 
bending his body to lean thereon, I now com- 
pare myself.” 

Washington was ever ready to acknowledge 
the particular providence, and to adore the 
glorious character, of the Creator of heaven 
and of earth ; and therefore, when he rejoiced 
in the prosperity of his loved country, his 
heart could feel and offer the ascription. 
“ Unto thee, 0 Lord, be all the glory and the 
praise.” 


CHAPTER XII 
1796—1799. 

The rest for which Washington had longed, 
was not idleness ; and, when he had examined 


WASHINGTON. 


241 


every part of his large farm, which had been 
in some degree neglected during his absence, 
he immediately commenced the employment 
of improving it. 

His faithful mother, in forming his first ha- 
bits, had not neglected that of early rising ; 
and through the whole of his useful life that 
habit was continued ; in winter, he rose usu- 
ally two hours before day ; and in summer, 
was ready to enjoy the healthful freshness 
and beauty of the dawn. 

The habit of early rising, in connexion with 
the exemplary one of strict attention to order 
in all his employments, gave Washington 
“ time for all things,” so that even when he 
had numerous and arduous public duties to at- 
tend to, he did not neglect any private one, 
but performed with ease himself, what would 
seem to be employment for many. He was 
remarkably neat in his person, but used a 
very short portion of time for attention to his 
dress. 

After his return to his farm, he visited his 
stables every day, to be certain that his horses 
were well taken care of. The one on which 
he rode when he was directing the siege of 
Yorktown, he did not use again ; it was al- 
lowed to graze on the best pasture in sum- 
mer, and was carefully stabled in winter, and 
died of old age, several years after the close 
of the war. 

Washington was employed for several 

X 


242 


LIFE OF 


hours, each day, in visiting all parts of his 
large farm. He went alone, opening and 
shutting the gates, and pulling down and put- 
ting up the bars as he passed. 

One day, Colonel Meade, a valued friend 
of Washington, was met by Mr. Custis, a re- 
lation of Mrs. Washington; Colonel Meade 
inquired if he should find the General at the 
house, or if he was out on. the farm. Mr. 
Custis, not knowing Colonel Meade, replied, 
that the General was out ; and, giving direc- 
tions as to the part of the farm on which he 
would probably be found, added, “ You will 
meet, sir, with an old gentleman , riding 
alone , in plain drab clothes , a broad brimmed 
vdiite hat , a hickory switch in his hand , 
and carrying an umbrella , with a long staff, \ 
which is attached to his saddle-bow , — that, 
sir , is General Washington /” The old 
friend of Washington replied, “Thank you, 
thank you, young gentleman ; I think, if I fall in 
with the General, I shall be apt to know him.” 

This description of Washington gives us 
some knowledge of how he looked on his 
farm. So many pictures of him, in different 
situations, have been drawn, — and young 
Americans have so often seen him represented 
on sign-posts in every part of the land, that 
they think they know exactly how he looked ; 
but unless they had seen him, instead of pic- 
tures of him, they can have no correct idea of 
his noble appearance 


WASHINGTON. 


243 


In his youth he was remarkable for the 
straightness and manliness of his form, 
which was six feet and two inches high. 
The expression of his countenance was se- 
rious, but very pleasing; his eyes were a 
mild blue, and the flush of health gave a glow 
to his cheeks. His step was always firm ; 
but after the toils of the long war, his body 
was a little bent .as h6 walked, and his once 
smooth forehead and cheeks were wrinkled. 

The venerable Charles Wilson Peale, who 
was the founder of the Philadelphia Museum, 
and lived to enter his eighty-sixth year, drew 
a likeness of him, when he was Colonel 
Washington, in the service of the king of 
England ; and another, when he was the pre- 
sident of the free United States. 

The river Potomac which flows by Mount 
Vernon, mingles with the Shenandoah river, 
at Harper’s Ferry, and presents a scene wild 
and grand. There, the Shenandoah, after 
ranging from the south a hundred miles along 
the foot of the Blue Ridge, flows into the Po- 
tomac, and the united streams roll calmly on 
towards the ocean, with the name of Potomac, 
and give variety to the landscape of a level 
country, which is seen like a distant picture, 
through the opening in the Blue Ridge. 

At a great height, the surface of the wall of 
rock is broken in the form of a human head, and 
the profile can be plainly traced. Travellers, 
who stop to gaze at the grand scenery around, 


244 


LIFE OF 


are told that this profile on the rock resem- 
bles that of Washington ; and Americans who 
look at it, can readily and fondly think, that 
they see a likeness of him, where the hand 
of man can never reach to deface it. 

At Harper’s Ferry are extensive public 
works, for making military arms. If his 
countrymen regard and follow the important 
farewell counsel of Washington, to “ Observe 
good faith and justice towards all nations , 
and to cultivate peace and harmony with all,” 
these arms will not be used, except as weapons 
of defence ; and then not until “ the cup of 
reconciliation is exhausted to the last drop.” 

A weekly school is kept at Harper’s Ferry, 
for the children of the workmen, and they 
have the blessing of Sunday-school instruc- 
tion. 

Had Washington lived to the time when 
there are Sunday-schools in almost every por- 
tion of his native land, no doubt he would 
have rejoiced to see the children taught to 
know their Creator as he has revealed him- 
self in his word, — to fear, obey, and love him, 
— and thus secure the blessing of “ the faith- 
ful God, who keepeth covenant and mercy 
with them that love him and keep his com- 
mandments, to a thousand generations.” 

Washington said, “Of all the dispositions 
and habits which lead to political prosperity, 
religion and morality are indispensable sup- 
ports.” Certainly, then, he would have ap- 


WASHINGTON. 


245 


proved of children being taught the pure pre- 
cepts of the gospel, and trained to restrain 
those natural dispositions, which, if indulged, 
would make them in manhood, useless or 
vicious members of the community. He also 
said, that “ without an humble imitation of the 
example of the divine Author of our blessed 
religion, we cannot hope to be a happy na- 
tion.” And as Washington always acted as 
if he believed what he expressed, he would 
have encouraged the effort to place in every 
family of his country the Bible, which teaches 
what that Divine example was, and how to 
obtain that “ new heart,” and “ right spirit,” 
which delights in following it. The active 
interest in behalf of Sunday-schools, displayed 
by that revered man, who bore the name 
and succeeded to the estate of Washington, 
favours such a presumption. He who fol- 
lowed so closely the habits of his honoured 
relative, and who maintained his principles, 
so rigidly, was, to the day of his death, an 
ardent friend to this system of universal edu- 
cation. He considered, to use his own lan- 
guage, a society constituted for the promotion 
of this great object, as entitled to be “ called 
the Charitable Society, as it diffused most per- 
manently, the greatest amount of good.” 

The wants of the poor were not neglected 
by Washington. He contributed liberally to 
the support of schools for the children of the 
x 2 


246 


LIFE OF 


indigent ; and the sick and aged could bear 
testimony to the benevolence of his heart. 

On his farm he had a comfortable house 
built for an old English soldier, who had 
been an attendant of General Braddock, at 
the time of his defeat ; after his death, he en- 
tered into the service of Washington, and con- 
tinued in it until the close of the provincial 
war ; he then married, and a home was pro- 
vided for him at Mount Vernon. He was too 
old to follow his beloved commander in the 
struggle for independence, and was left at 
home to enjoy the comforts which old age re- 
quires. Children loved to visit the old sol- 
dier, and listen to his tales of the Indian war, 
which he delighted in telling. When Washing- 
ton was passing round his farm, he often stop- 
ped to gladden the heart of the gray-headed ve- 
teran with kind words; and he lived to enjoy 
the comforts which had been provided for him 
until he was eighty years of age. 

The days of Washington were spent in use- 
ful employments, and his evenings in the en- 
joyment of domestic happiness. It was 
then his custom to read to his family such 
new publications as interested him, and on Sun- 
day evenings the Bible and a sermon. Some- 
times he would sit, as if he forgot that he was 
not alone, and raising his hand, would move 
his lips silently, as if engaged in prayer. In 
town or country, he was a constant attendant 
upon public worship, and by his devout de- 


WASHINGTON. 


247 


portment there, proved that he went there for 
the purpose of worshipping God. He always 
acknowledged by his example, that he felt his 
solemn obligation to keep holy the Sabbath 
day ; and to influence others to do so as far as 
was within his power. 

His nephew, Bushrod Washington, was 
elected in the year 1826, a vice-president of 
the American Sunday School Union. He re- 
sided at Mount Vernon, which was left to 
him by his illustrious uncle. In a part of 
his answer to the letter which informed him 
of his election, he wrote thus : “ I beg 

leave now to express the grateful sense I 
have of the honour conferred upon me, by 
the American Sunday School Union, in elect- 
ing me one of the vice-presidents of that 
institution, and of the approbation bestowed 
by the Board of Managers upon the well in- 
tended efforts which I have made to secure 
the due observance of the sabbath day, upon a 
spot, where I am persuaded, it was never vio- 
lated, during the life, and with the permission 
of its former venerable and truly Christian 
owner.” 

General Washington said, that “both rea- 
son and experience forbid us to expect that 
morality can prevail to the exclusion of reli- 
gious principle and this sentiment is well 
supported by Chief-Justice Hale of England, 
who said, “ that of all the persons who 
were convicted of capital crimes, while he 


248 


LIFE OF 


was upon the bench, he found a few only, 
who would not confess, on inquiry, that they 
began their career of wickedness by a neglect 
of the duties of the Sabbath , and a vicious 
conduct on that day” And no doubt, the 
prisons of our own country could produce a 
host of witnesses to testify the same. Then 
the example of Washington in remembering 
“ the sabbath day, to keep it holy,” was that 
of a patriot as well as a Christian. 

The peaceful life of Washington on his 
farm was again disturbed by a call from his 
countrymen to become their leader in the de- 
fence of their national rights. The French 
republic had refused to receive General Pinck- 
ney, a highly respected American, whom 
Washington had sent to France as minister in 
the year 1796. He was ordered to quit the 
territories of France, and at the same time 
that the French republic expressed great at- 
tachment to the people of the United States 
they abused the government, and thus showed 
an intention to endeavour to separate the peo- 
ple from their government. They also cap- 
tured American vessels wherever they were 
found. The government of the United States 
appointed three envoys, one of whom was 
General Pinckney, to endeavour to preserve 
peace “ on terms compatible with the rights, 
duties, interests, and honour of the nation.” 

In the spring of 1798, they informed their 
government that they had entirely failed, and 


WASHINGTON. 


249 


were treated in a very insulting manner. Two 
of them were ordered to quit France, one was 
permitted to remain. 

Congress determined on raising an army, 
and though they regretted to deprive the vene- 
rable Washington of that rest which he had 
earned by his past services, they complied with 
the wishes of his countrymen, and request- 
ed him to accept the command of the army. 
He did so, but continued to employ himself on 
his farm, being ready at any moment to obey a 
call to the duties of his appointment. But his 
Creator was soon about to call him from all 
earthly duties. We have now to proceed to 
the melancholy task of giving an account of 
the last sickness and the death of the Father 
of his Country. And this cannot be done 
better than in the words of Tobias Lear, one 
of his attendants, who drew up the following 
statement, on the day after the General’s 
death. We have no fear that any of our rea- 
ders will think the details too particular : 

“ On Thursday, December 12, the General 
rode out to his farm at about ten o’clock, and 
did not return home till past three. Soon af- 
ter he went out, the weather became very 
bad ; rain, hail, and snow falling alternately, 
with a cold wind. When he came in, I car- 
ried some letters to him to frank, intending to 
send them to the post-office. He franked the 
letters, but said the weather was too bad to 
send a servant to the office that evening. 1 


250 


LIFE OF 


observed to him that I was afraid he had got 
wet ; he said no — his great coat had kept him 
dry; but his neck appeared to be wet — the 
snow was hanging to his hair. 

“ He came to dinner without changing his 
dress. In the evening he appeared as well as 
usual. A heavy fall of snow took place on 
Friday, which prevented the General from 
riding out as usual. He had taken cold, (un- 
doubtedly from being so much exposed the 
day before,) and complained of having a sore 
throat ; he had a hoarseness, which increased 
in the evening, but he made light of it, as he 
would never take any thing to carry off a 
cold, — always observing, “ let it go as it 
came.” In the evening, the papers having 
come from the post office, he sat in the room, 
with Mrs. Washington and myself, reading 
them, till about nine o’clock ; and, when he 
met with any thing which he thought divert- 
ing or interesting, he would read it aloud. He 
desired me to read to him the debates of the 
Virginia Assembly, on the election of a senator 
and governor, which I did. On his retiring 
to bed, he appeared to be in perfect health, 
except the cold, which he considered as tri- 
lling — he had been remarkably cheerful all 
the evening. 

“ About two or three o’clock on Saturday 
morning, he awoke Mrs. Washington, and in- 
formed her he was very unwell, and had an 
ague. She observed that he could scarcely 


WASHINGTON. 


251 


speak, and breathed with difficulty, and she 
wished to get up and call a servant ; but the 
General would not permit her, lest she should 
take cold. .As soon as the day appeared, the 
woman Caroline went into the room to make 
a fire, and the girl desired that Mr. Rawlins, 
one of the overseers, who was used to bleed- 
ing the people, might be sent for to bleed him 
before the Doctor could arrive. I was sent 
for — went to the General’s chamber, where 
Mrs. Washington was up, and related to me his 
being taken ill between two and three o’clock, 
as before stated. I found him breathing 
with difficulty, and hardly able to utter a word 
intelligibly. I went out instantly, and wrote 
a line to Dr. Plask, and sent it with all speed. 
Immediately I returned to the General’s cham- 
ber, where I found him in the same situation 
I had left him. A mixture of molasses, vine- 
gar, and butter, was prepared, but he could 
not swallow a drop ; whenever he attempted it 
he was distressed, convulsed, and almost suf- 
focated. 

“ Mr. Rawlins came in soon after sunrise, 
and prepared to bleed him ; when the arm 
was ready the General observing Rawlins ap- 
peared agitated, said, with difficulty, “ don’t 
be afraid;” and, after the incision was made, 
he observed the orifice was not large enough — 
however the blood ran pretty freely. Mrs. 
Washington, not knowing whether bleeding 
was proper in the General’s situation, begged 


LIFE OF 


that much blood might not be taken from him, 
and desired me to stop it. When I was about 
to untie the string, the General put up his 
hand to prevent it, and, so soon as he could 
speak, said “ more.” 

“ Mrs. Washington being still uneasy lest too 
much blood should be taken, it was stopped, 
after about half a pint had been taken. Find- 
ing that no relief could be obtained from bleed- 
ing, and that nothing could be swallowed, I 
proposed bathing the throat externally with 
sal volatile, which was done ; a piece of flan- 
nel was then put around his neck. His feet 
w r ere also soaked in warm water, but it gave no 
relief. By Mrs. Washington’s request, I de- 
spatched a messenger for Dr. Brown, at Port 
Tobacco. About 9 o’clock Dr. Craik arrived, 
and put a blister of flies on the throat of 
the General, and took more blood, and had 
some vinegar and hot water set in a teapot 
for him to draw in the steam from the spout. 

“ He also had sage tea and vinegar mixed 
and used as a gargle, but, when he held back 
his head to let it run down, it almost produced 
suffocation. When the mixture came out of 
his mouth some phlegm followed it, and he 
would attempt to cough, which the Doctor 
encouraged, but without effect. About eleven 
o’clock Dr. Dick was sent for. Dr. Craik 
bled the General again, but no effect was pro- 
duced, and he continued in the same state, 
unable to swallow any thing. Dr. Dick came 


WASHINGTON. 


253 

in about three o’clock, and Dr. Brown arrived 
soon after; when, after consultation, the Ge- 
neral was bled again, the blood ran slowly, 
appeared very thick, and did not produce any 
symptoms of fainting. At four o’clock the 
General could swallow a little. Calomel and 
tartar emetic were administered without effect. 
About half past four o’clock he desired me to 
ask Mrs. Washington to come to his bedside, 
when he desired her to go down to his room 
and take from his desk two wills which she 
would find there, and bring them to him, 
which she did ; upon looking at one, which 
he observed was useless, he desired her to 
burn it, which she did, and then took the 
other and put it way ; after this was done I* 
returned again to his bed side and took his 
hand : He said to me, “I find I am going — 
my breath cannot continue long : I believed 
from the first attack it would be fatal. Do 
you arrange and record all my military letters 
and papers ; arrange my accounts and settle 
my books, as you know more about them than 
any one else ; and let Mr. Rawlins finish re- 
cording my other letters, which he has be- 
gun.” He asked when Mr. Lewis and Wash- 
ington would return ? I told him I believed 
about the 20th of the month. He made no re- 
ply to it. 

“ The physicians came in between five and 
six o’clock, and, when they came to his bed- 
side, Dr. Craik asked him if he would sit up 
Y 


254 


LIFE or 


in the bed : he held out his hand to me and 
was raised up, when he said to the physician 
— “ I feel myself going; you had better not 
take any more trouble about me, but let me go 
off quietly ; 1 cannot last long.” They found 
what had been done was without effect ; he 
laid down again, and they retired, excepting 
Dr. Craik. He then said to him — “ Doctor^ 
I die hard, but I am not afraid to go ; I be- 
lieved, from my first attack, I should not sur- 
vive it; my breath cannot last long.” The 
doctor pressed his hand, but could not utter a 
word ; he retired from the bedside and sat by 
the fire, absorbed in grief. About eight o’clock 
the physicians again came into the room, and 
.applied blisters to his legs, but went out with- 
out a ray of hope. From this time he appeared 
to breathe with less difficulty than he had 
done, but was very restless, continually chang- 
ing his position, to endeavour to get ease, i 
aided him all in my power, and was gratified 
in believing he felt it, for he would look upon 
me with eyes speaking gratitude, but unable 
to utter a word without great distress. About 
ten o’clock he made several attempts to speak 
to me before he could effect it ; at length he 
said, “ I am just going. Have me decently 
buried ; and do not let my body be put into 
the vault in less than two days after I am 
dead.” I bowed assent. He looked at me 
again, and said, “ Do you understand me ?” 
I replied, “ Yes, sir.” “’Tis well,” said he. 


WASHINGTON*. 


235 


About ten minutes before he expired, his 
breathing became much easier — he lay quiet- 
ly — he withdrew his hand from mine and felt 
his own pulse. I spoke to Dr. Craik, who 
sat by the lire ; he came to the bedside. The 
General’s hand fell from his wrist ; I took it 
in mine and placed it on my breast. Dr. Craik 
placed his hands over his eyes, and he expired 
without a struggle or a sigh.” His loved wife 
kneeled beside his bed, with her head resting 
on the Bible, in which she daily read the pre- 
cepts, and cheering promises of her Saviour ; 
and they comforted her in her hour of deepest 
sorrow. Her miniature portrait was found on 
the bosom of Washington, where he had worn 
it for forty years. 

The report of his death reached Congress 
before they knew of his sickness ; and when 
they heard it, a solemn silence prevailed for 
several minutes ; Judge Marshall, the present 
Chief Justice of the United States, observed, 
“ This information is not certain, but there is 
too much reason to believe it true. After re- 
ceiving intelligence of a national calamity so 
heavy and afflicting, the House of Representa- 
tives can be but ill-fitted for public business.” 
He then moved an adjournment, and both 
houses adjourned until the jiext day. When 
Congress then met, Mr. Marshall proposed 
several resolutions ; one of which was,- “Re- 
solved, That a committee, in conjunction with 
one from the Senate, be appointed, to consi- 


256 


LIFE OF 


der on the most suitable manner of paying ho- 
nour to the memory of the man, first in war, 
first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fel- 
low-citizens.” 

The Senate addressed a letter to the presi- 
dent, in which they said, “Permit us, sir, to 
mingle our tears with yours. On this occasion 
it js manly to weep. To lose such a man, at 
such a crisis, is no common calamity to the 
world. Our country mourns a father. The 
Almighty disposer of human events has taken 
from us our greatest benefactor and ornament. 
It becomes us to submit with reverence to 
him ‘ who maketh darkness his pavilion.’ ” 

The president returned an answer expres- 
sive of his sorrow for the death of Washing- 
ton, and in the conclusion of it, said, “ His 
example is now complete ; and it will teach 
wisdom and virtue to magistrates, citizens and 
men ; and not only in the present age, but in 
future generations, as long as our history shall 
be read.” 

The people throughout the United States 
mourned for Washington. They had been 
ever ready to unite in expressing their grate- 
ful attachment to him, and they felt that they 
had indeed lost their greatest benefactor. 

In his will, which was a just and benevo- 
lent one, he directed that his body should be 
laid in a vault, at Mount Vernon ; and added, 
“ It is my express desire, that my corpse may 


WASHINGTON. 


257 










kV 





258 


LIFE OF 


be interred in a private manner, without pa- 
rade or funeral oration.” 

On the 18th December he was laid in the 
grave, which was a humble vault, as repre- 
sented in the engraving. Since that time the 
body has been removed to a new vault, built 
up in front with brick, and having a small iron 
door at the entrance. On a small slab is this 
inscription : 

“ WASHINGTON FAMILY.” 

Below this are the following verses from the Gospel 
of John, xi. 25, 26 : — 

“ I am the resurrection and the life : he that be - 
lieveth in me , though he -were dead, yet shall he live : 
and -whosoever liveth, and believeth in me, shall neve *■ 
die*” 


WASHINGTON. 


2?9 


CONCLUSION. 

Washington was born on the 22d Februa- 
ry, in the year 1732, and died on the 14th 
December, 1799. 

Young reader, you have learned why there 
was cause for joy in his birthday, and for 
sorrow in the day of his death. If you have 
been attentive to what you have read of his 
conduct, from the one day to the other, you 
know that in childhood he was a lover of 
truth, and a peacemaker among his school- 
mates ; — that in boyhood he was a diligent 
scholar, and the leader of his companions — 
not in mischief, folly, or vice, — but in harm- 
less and healthy exercises ; and was a pattern 
of obedience to the wishes of a parent ; — that, 
when the years of boyhood were passed, he 
immediately applied to useful purposes the 
knowledge which he had acquired by atten- 
tion to instruction ; and that early in man- 
hood, he merited the confidence of the govern- 
ment of his native Province, and was intrusted 
with important and dangerous duties, which 
he performed with faithful perseverance ; — 
that he used all his talents, and spent almost 
all his years, from manhood to declining age, 
in the service and for the benefit of his fellow- 
beings ; and even in old age, was willing to 
yield the peaceful enjoyments which he loved 
most, because he thought that it was “ the duty 


260 LIFE OF WASHINGTON., 

of every person, of every description, to coil 
tribute, at all times, to his country’s welfare.” 

Through all his course of trials and temp- 
tations, in adversity or prosperity, he was 
just, industrious, temperate, honest, generous, 
brave, humane, modest, — a real lover of his 
country, and an humble worshipper of God. 
Was he not worthy of your imitation ? Your 
station in life may be a lowly one, but if your 
home is even a log hut, you may be, like 
Washington, a lover of truth, temperate, in- 
dustrious, just, humane, honest, submissive to 
the government of your country, and obedient 
to the commands of God, and grow up to be 
indeed freemen , — and to enjoy, under the pro- 
tection of just laws, the comfortable subsist- 
ence which in this favoured land you may 
obtain for yourselves. 

But, remember, Washington directed his 
countrymen to a higher example than his ; he 
said that he earnestly prayed they might fol- 
low that of “THE DIVINE AUTHOR OF OUR 
blessed religion,” and the Bible, the sacred 
book which makes known that example, you 
should value as the crown of all your blessings ; 
for in it, you may learn how to secure their 
continuance through this short life , and how 
to obtain that blissful gift of God, “ Eternal 
life , through Jesus Christ, our Lord.” 


DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 


In Congress, July, 4, 1776. 

THE UNANIMOUS DECLARATION OF THE THIRTEEN 
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

When, in the course of human events, it becomes 
necessary for one people to dissolve the political 
bands which have connected them with another, 
and to assume, among the powers of the earth, the 
separate and equal station to which the laws of na- 
ture and of nature’s God entitle them, a decent 
respect to the opinions of mankind requires that 
they should declare the causes which impel them 
to the separation. 

We hold these truths to be self-evident : — that 
all men are created equal, that they are endowed 
by their Creator with certain unalienable rights ; 
that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit 
of happiness. That to secure these rights, govern- 
ments are instituted among men, deriving their 
just powers from the consent of the governed; 
that whenever any form of government becomes 
destructive of these ends, it is the right of the peo- 
ple to alter or to abolish it, and to institute a new 
government, laying its foundation on such princi- 
ples, and organizing its powers in such form as to 

261 


262 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

them shall seem most likely to effect their safety 
and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that 
governments long established should not be changed 
for light and transient causes ; and accordingly all 
experience hath shown, that mankind are more dis- 
posed to suffer while evils are sufferable, than to 
right themselves by abolishing the forms to which 
they are accustomed. But when a long train of 
abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the 
same object, evinces a design to reduce them under 
absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty 
to throw off such government, and to provide new 
guards for their future security. Such has been 
the patient sufferance of these colonies ; and such 
is now the necessity which constrains them to alter 
their former systems of government. The history 
of the present king of Great Britian is a history of 
repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in di- 
rect object the establishment of an absolute tyranny 
over these states. To prove this, let facts be sub- 
mitted to a candid world. 

He has refused his assent to laws the most whole- 
some and necessary for the public good. 

He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of 
immediate and pressing importance, unless sus- 
pended in their operation, till his assent should be 
obtained ; and when so suspended, he has utterly 
neglected to attend to them. He has refused to 
pass other laws for the accommodation of large dis- 


DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 263 

tricts of people, unless those people would relinquish 
the right of representation in the legislature— a 
right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants 
only. 

He has called together legislative bodies at pla- 
ces unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the 
repository of their public records, for the sole pur- 
pose of fatiguing them into compliance with his 
measures. 

He has dissolved representative houses repeat- 
edly, for opposing, with manly firmness, his inva- 
sions on the rights of the people. 

He has refused, for a long time after such disso- 
lutions, to cause others to be elected ; whereby the 
legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have 
returned to the people at large, for their exercise, 
the state remaining, in the mean time, exposed to 
all the dangers of invasion from without, and con- 
vulsions within. 

He has endeavoured to prevent the population 
of these states; for that purpose obstructing the 
laws for naturalization of foreigners ; refusing to 
pass others to encourage their migration hither, and 
raising the conditions of new appropriations of 
lands. 

He has obstructed the administration of justice, 
by refusing his assent to laws for establishing ju- 
diciary powers. 

He has made judges dependent on his will alone, 


264 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and 
payment of their salaries. 

He has erected a multitude of new offices, and 
sent hither swarms of officers, to harass our people, 
and eat out their substance. 

He has kept among us, in times of peace, stand- 
ing armies, without the consent of our legislatures. 

He has affected to render the military indepen- 
dent of, and superior to, the civil power. 

He has combined with others to subject us to a 
jurisdiction foreign to otfr constitution, and unac- 
knowledged by our laws ; giving his assent to their 
acts of pretended legislation : 

For quartering large bodies of armed troops 
among us : 

For protecting them, by a mock trial, from pun- 
ishment for any murders which they should commit 
on the inhabitants of these states : 

For cutting off our trade with all parts of the 
world : 

For imposing taxes on us without our consent : 

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits 
of trial by jury : 

For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for 
pretended offences : 

For abolishing the free system of English laws 
in a neighbouring province, establishing therein 
an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boun- 
daries, so as to render it at once an example and 


DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 265 

fit instrument for introducing the same absolute 
rule into these colonies : 

For taking away our charters, abolishing our 
most valuable laws, and altering, fundamentally, 
the forms of our governments : 

For suspending our own legislatures, and declar- 
ing themselves invested with power to legislate for 
us in all cases whatsoever. 

He has abdicated government here, by declaring 
us out of his protection, and waging war against 
us. 

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, 
burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our 
people. 

He is at this time transporting large armies of 
foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, 
desolation, and tyranny, already begun with cir- 
cumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarcely paral- 
leled in the most barbarous ages, and totally un- 
worthy the head of a civilized nation. 

He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken 
captive on the high seas, to bear arms against their 
country, to become the executioners of their friends 
and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. 

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst 
us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants 
of our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, whose 
known rule of warfare is an undistinguished de- 
struction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. 

Z 


266 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 

In every stage of these oppressions we have pe- 
titioned for redress in the most humble terms: our 
repeated petitions have been answered only by re- 
peated injury. A prince, whose character is thus 
marked by every ac.t which may define a tyrant, is 
unfit to be the ruler of a free people. 

Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our 
British brethren. We have warned them, from 
time to time, of attempts by their legislature to ex- 
tend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We 
have reminded them of the circumstance of our 
emigration and settlement here. We have ap- 
pealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and 
we have conjured them by the ties of our common 
kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would 
inevitably interrupt our connexions and correspon- 
dence. They too have been deaf to the voice of 
justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, 
acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our 
separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of 
mankind — enemies in war, in peace friends. 

We, therefore, the representatives of the United 
States of America, in general congress assembled, 
appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world, for 
the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and 
by the authority of the good people of these colo- 
nies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united 
colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and in- 
dependent states ; that they are absolved from all 


DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 267 

allegiance to the British crown, and that all politi- 
cal connexion between them and the state of Great 
Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and 
that, as free and independent states, they have full 
power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alli- 
ances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts 
and things which independent states may of right 
do. And for the support of this declaration, with 
a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Provi- 
dence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, 
our fortunes, and our sacred honour. 

JOHN HANCOCK. 


NEW HAMPSHIRE. 

Josiah Bartlett, 
William Whipple, 
Matthew Thornton. 

MASSACHUSETTS BAY. 

Samuel Adams, 

John Adams, 

Robert Treat Paine, 
Elbridge Gerry. 

RHODE ISLAND, &C. 

Stephen Hopkins, 
William Ellery. 

CONNECTICUT. 

Roger Sherman, 
Samuel Huntington, 
William Williams, 


Oliver Wolcott 

NEW YORK. 

William Floyd, 
Philip Livingston, 
Francis Lewis, 
Lewis Morris. 

NEW JERSEY. 

Richard Stockton, 
John Witherspoon, 
Francis Hopkinson, 
John Hart, 

Abraham Clark. 

PENNSYLVANIA. 

Robert Morris, 
Benjamin Rush, 
Benjamin Franklin, 




2G8 DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 


John Morton, 

George Clymer, 

James Smith, 

George Taylor, 

James Wilson, 

George Ross. 

DELAWARE. 

Caesar Rodney, 

George Read, 

Thomas M’Kean. 

MARYLAND. 

Samuel Chase, 

William Paca, 

Thomas Stone, 

C. Carroll, of Carrollton. 

VIRGINIA. 

George Wythe, 

Richard Henry Lee, 


Thomas Jefferson, 
Benjamin Harrison, 
Thomas Nelson, jr. 
Francis Lightfoot Lee, 
Carter Braxton. 

NORTH CAROLINA. 

William Hooper, 
Joseph Hewes, 

John Penn. 

SOUTH CAROLINA. 

Edward Rutledge, 
Thomas Heyward, jr. 
Thomas Lynch, jr. 
Arthur Middleton. 

GEORGIA. 

Button Gwinnett, 
Lyman Hall, 

George Walton. 


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